Lupin's Tale
by Kuri333
Summary: On the life of one Werewolf called Remus Lupin.
1. Dreams were not supposed to hurt

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor any of its characters and places. No profit is being made.**

**AN: This is the story of Remus J. Lupin through episodes corresponding to important moments in his life.**

**Although this is a stand-alone story, it is also companion to 'Tonks' Tale'. At some point, predictably, they will cross.**

* * *

_January 1965_

This was an awful strange dream. Dreams were not supposed to hurt. Or maybe they were…

Remus opened his eyes, he was awake all right.

Why did it felt as if he had run? He was breathing fast and he was sweating. And he was feeling very tired, which was odd. He was lying in bed after all.

Do people sweat when they dream? He did not remember.

And there was the pain. His leg was hurting so badly he was whimpering softly. Even though he was almost five years old, he was a big boy now and he was not supposed to whimper anymore; he was no baby.

Do dreams hurt? Was he awake?

He tried to raise his head. At least he could do that. Groping around, he looked for his teddy bear. There it was, right at the end of the bed. Remus clasped his hand around it and hugged it tight.

Why did his leg hurt this much?

Suppressing another whimper, Remus looked down his sheets. It was too dark to distinguish anything, there were only dark shadows. The only light came from the big moon through the window.

He reached with his fingers and felt the fabric of his pyjamas. And then…

_This_ was really odd. Why were his pyjamas ripped? Was he wearing a bandage?

Remus whimpered again, but tried his best to muffle the sound. Dropping his head back on the pillow he closed his eyes shut.

_I am dreaming_. He decided. _I am having a nightmare. Maybe some nightmares hurt._

He tried to remember what had happened before in this dream of his. He was lying in bed, there was this odd pain. He whimpered again and bit his fist. There had been a monster in his dream!

Now he remembered. He had been lying in bed and the monster had come through his window.

He opened his eyes again. He was awake, there was no point trying to fall asleep again.

But there had been a dream and there had been a monster in it.

The monster had come through his window, he had even smashed the glass, and had jumped into his bed. And he, Remus, had tried to fight him.

He remembered the heat coming from the monster's body, his teeth. He had bitten his leg! Now he remembered.

But then… then…

If it had been a dream, why did his leg still hurt, now that he was awake?

He stretched his fingers again to touch the fabric. Yes, that was a bandage. And somebody had ripped his pyjamas.

There was something sticky on them too.

He pushed gently on the thing even if that made his leg hurt even more.

He raised his hand and put it in front of the light coming through the window.

It was dark red.

Remus whimpered again.

Maybe he was not such a big boy as he thought. Maybe it was alright to cry.

"Mum! Dad!"

He was ashamed that his voice sounded like a sob.

* * *

"And I'm telling you my kid is calling for me!"

Mum's voice sounded really angry and a second later she opened the door. Dad was following her. Both were wearing their night clothes, though Dad had also a jacket on.

"Oh Merlin, he's awake," he said.

"What is it, honey?" she sounded worried.

Crouching near his little bed she put a hand on his forehead.

"He's not so hot anymore," she said to Dad.

"I…" Remus started, feeling both scared and confused. "What happened?"

He was sure his parents had glanced at each other, really quick. His leg hurt badly, but something was telling Remus there were more important things going on, and that might need to wait.

"Everything is fine," Mum said, kissing his forehead.

"What happened?" he replied. He was not sure about many things but it was obvious not everything was fine.

Another shadow made him look at the door. Somebody else was there, a man apparently, but he could not recognise his face.

"Who is he, Mum?" he asked, pointing at the estranger with his finger.

Both his parents turned his heads.

"He's just… he's a friend, honey," Mum said, but her voice sounded weak.

"Would you wait for us in the sitting room?" Dad told the man.

He was using that tone Remus knew too well, the tone than meant he was to obey. The man at the door did not seem to know that, because he did not move. But there were more important things that this man who would not obey Dad.

"Mum," Remus tried again, making efforts for his voice to sound strong. "My leg is hurting. What happened?"

With a fast movement, his Mum waved her wand and turned on the lights. With her other hand, she was moving the blankets in order to get a better view at Remus' leg.

The bright light made him cover his eyes for a moment, but he wanted to see what was wrong with his leg, so he forced his hand out of his eyes. The first thing he saw was the face of the man at the door. He was strange, with scars all over, and somehow he looked menacing, like the pictures of bad wizards he often saw in his books. The man was looking at him with bright black eyes.

But he could not pay the stranger much attention. His mother was removing the bandages. They were dark red.

He could not suppress a soft sob.

"It's going to be alright, Remus," Dad said, ruffling his head.

Remus tried to sit and look at his leg.

There was a big wound in it. Much bigger than the one he had gotten last week when he had fallen down the garden tree. This wound had a funny shape too… it looked almost like a half-moon in his thigh and there was a lot of blood on it. How had he managed to get this hurt?

"Mum, what happened to me?" he asked.

She did not answer but tapped her wand lightly at one side of the wound.

"John, get the Dittany," she asked, her voice sounded urgent.

Dad reached for a bottle in Remus' desk and gave it to her. Remus looked at him, but he was looking away at the wound.

Using the parts of the bandage that were not covered in blood, she started applying the ointment to the reddish surface of the thigh.

"It doesn't work on that kind of wounds," the stranger at the doorframe spoke with a harsh voice, almost like a grunt.

"I know it doesn't," Mum said and she sounded really angry this time. "It relieves the pain of my son nonetheless, and that is my first priority right now."

"You have to take him to St. Mungo's," the man spoke again.

"Listen, Mister- whatever your name is-"

"Moody," said the man.

Mum stood up and thrusting the ointment into Dad's hand, faced the strange looking man on the door. Remus looked at him too and gasped out loud. One of his legs was missing and he had a wooden stick ending in a claw instead. Remus could not help to wander if that was going to happen to him, was he going to lose his leg as well? Mum's voice distracted him from this idea.

"Listen, Moody. He's not going anywhere. I'm a Healer, I know what there is to be done; I know this will take a while to heal but I'm fully qualified to take care of it."

The man named Moody shook his head, while her mother turned again to face Remus' leg.

"It would be better-" he started to say.

Mum turned to the man again, approaching him and pointing at him with his finger. He did not move.

"What is better for my son right now is not being treated like a monster, not by anybody, least of all by your Ministry lot! do you hear me?"

_A monster?_

Remus raised his hands hastily to look properly at them. He was almost expecting to see claws instead but they looked just like always. Why was he a monster?

He looked at his Dad for an explanation of what Mum had just said but he did not meet his eye. He was covering his eyes with one hand, and seemed to be really sad.

"He's not going to be studied, or reported, or treated in any different way!" Mum was saying.

"Unfortunately, Mrs. Lupin," Moody replied, "he _is_ different. Somebody has informed us about the attack, and by the looks of the wound, I don't need further proof of what he is. I'm…" he cleared his throat, and his voice came a little kinder this time. "I'm afraid I must report the case to the Registry."

"Mum?" Remus asked again.

When she looked at him he saw, for the first time, that she was crying. He did not even know grown-ups cried!

"Mum, what's happening?" he repeated.

She crouched near his bad again, and took his hand on hers.

"Remus," she said, "you're a big boy now, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"You have to be very brave now."

Remus wished that the stranger would go, because he was sure he was going to cry. For some reason he did not want this Moody person to see him crying.

"You had an accident," Mum continued. "And… because of that, some things are going to happen to you."

"Like the wound?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Like the wound, yes. But you need to rest now, all right? I'll change the bandages and it will stop hurting in a bit."

Remus cleaned his tears with an impatient move.

"Am I going to be a monster?" he whispered.

At his other side, his father made a very strange noise. It was almost as if he was also crying, but Remus did not turn to check. He was more concerned about his question.

"No, Remus. You're not going to be a monster, never. Do you understand?" Mum said with a very stern voice.

"Yeah," Remus replied, nodding.

Her mother finished with the bandages and his father and Moody exited the room.

"I need to know, Mr. Lupin," Moody said, "if you had any suspicions, any at all, on this matter."

The words his father said next were totally incomprehensible to Remus.

"Fenrir Greyback."


	2. You will have to be very brave, Remus

_February 16__th__ 1965_

"You will have to be very brave, Remus. You can do that, can't you?"

Her mother was crouching in front of him, her hands were on his shoulders and she looked really serious and worried.

"I'm brave," Remus said, but he could suppress a quiver in his voice.

"I know you are, honey."

She hugged him, but this did not do much to relax the little boy. Over her shoulder, he could see Dad, looking at his own feet. He used to do that a lot lately, Remus had noticed.

"What is going to happen?" he asked for the tenth time, maybe hoping he would get a different answer.

If Mum was tired of having to respond this over and over, she did not show it. She placed her hands in his shoulders again and looked at him.

"You are going to be ill, Remus, for a couple of days. But this is not a normal disease. You will have to be on your own for a while, do you understand?"

Remus nodded.

"That's why Dad built the little house in the garden," he said.

"Precisely," Dad said, briefly glancing at him.

"That's why I always have headaches?" he asked again.

"Yes, honey," Mum nodded.

"But why can't you be with me?" Remus said, almost complaining.

Mum sighed.

"It's a different disease, Remus. You'll have to be on your own, just for a while."

Suddenly he had an idea.

"Is it contagious?" he asked.

Mum made a strange sound, like a sob, but she was not crying. Not anymore, anyways. She had been crying a lot for the past weeks, and even though she had been hiding in the bathroom, Remus had noticed it.

"Yes, Remus. It is pretty contagious. I think it might be the most contagious disease there is," she explained.

"And couldn't I get a Potion to prevent the disease? Or do something? Like, washing my hands or putting on my coat when going out? How did I get it in the first place?" he was angry now, and stomped the ground with his foot.

He had been behaving his best, he had been doing all those things and yet he was going to be ill! This was not fair!

"Do you remember your wound?" Dad said hoarsely, and Mum turned around to see him.

"Of course I do," Remus prompted.

He even brushed his thigh with his fingers. He was still wearing a small piece of gauze on the wound. It had taken ages to heal properly and Mum had been worried.

"It seems," Dad continued, "that the wound was infected… it was dirty. And that's how you got this disease."

Remus thought about it for a second.

"And how did I get the wound?"

He had asked this many times and he had not had an answer. He knew he would not get one now either, but he had to try anyway.

"We've told you, Remus. You will have to wait-" Mum started.

"This doesn't make sense," Dad interjected. "What difference does it make if he knows it now, or later?"

"He's not going to go there with that on his head," Mum hissed at him.

Now Dad crouched near Mum and looked at him.

"You know what, Remus? We're going to explain it all after your disease. Is that all right?"

The boy opened his eyes wide.

"Really?" he whispered. A wide smile spread on his face "Yeah! Of course! Let's go then!"

He clasped her mother's hand and pulled her towards the garden. She looked out the window at the setting sun and nodded.

It was a small garden and the shack John Lupin had built during the past weeks was also small. Remus reached the place and opened the door. A bed had been placed in one corner, and several posters covered the wall. There was a picture of the Tarapoto Tree-Skimmers, his father's Quidditch Team, another nice picture of a forest and yet another one picturing a castle on top of a mountain.

Mum had casted a heating charm on it, so even if the garden was covered in snow, it felt really comfortable.

Suddenly Remus remembered something, something really important for him that was missing.

"I'll be back!" he cried, and sprinted inside the house.

Going into his bedroom he grabbed the teddy bear lying on top of his bed and run towards the small hut in the garden, beaming.

Mum and Dad did not say a thing.

Helped by Mum, Remus got into the bed and covered with the blankets, hugging his bear.

"I'm ready," he announced.

He was not scared anymore. As a matter of fact, he was even a bit excited. It all seemed to be an adventure and his house really looked great. Maybe it would not be that bad to have this disease.

Mum took a bottle with a blue liquid inside.

"Take it, Remus," she indicated and he did as he was told.

The flavour was horrible, but he knew best as to complain.

"What was it?" he asked.

"Something to help you sleep for a while."

Remus nodded, but he could not even process what she had just said. Sleep came like a wave upon him and before his parents exited the hut, he was already snoozing. He did not hear the spells casted by his father on the hood, nor the sobs of her mother when they retreated home without him.

* * *

Pain. He was sure he had woken up because of the pain.

Something seemed to be pressing his head, while somebody was ripping his back and his chest, and there was this feeling of… hopelessness? He remembered he had felt trapped for so long, he remembered he had tried to escape. And then he had felt anger, he had been furious and had wanted to hurt. There had not been anybody around, but still he had found something to rip and bite and slash and, for a moment, it had felt so good to be able to do that.

Not anymore.

The only thing there was now was pain, but it was of a different kind. Pain on his head, on his body, inside. He was panting and whimpering because of the pain.

He could hear many things: the wind around the hut and on top of the tress, the snow falling on the garden, some small animal walking somewhere on the wooden floor. The sounds were everywhere and they seemed to be too loud. He could also smell, there was something stinky, like the meat sometimes Mum cooked, and there was also another smell Remus knew well, blood.

Was this why his head hurt this much?

Remus made a great effort and opened his eyes. He was lying on the wooden floor and it seemed he was naked.

Wasn't he wearing his pyjamas before? He was not sure.

The door opened and a rush of cold wind entered, making him shiver. He could not move, though, not even to find something to cover. Fragments of pictures swirled around with the wind and a couple of them stuck to his skin. Even this was painful.

Now he could also hear a loud gasp, somebody was scared.

His entire body hurt and he could not move; he felt so weak.

"We'll hover him inside," he heard his Dad said, but he could not move.

He felt sudden warmth around his body, but nothing was covering him. He realised somebody must have casted a heating charm around him. Why would not they just put his pyjamas back on?

He groaned as he felt his body rise and float. Even this small movement was terribly painful.

As he floated to the house, being lead by his father's wand, Remus realised what was so terrible about this disease and why had his parents been so worried. He had never felt this hurt in his life.

But it was over now.

He flinched when his small body touched the mattress of his own bed in his bedroom, but smiled anyway. It was over now. He was safe.

* * *

When he woke up, he did not know how long he had slept. Mum's eyes were closed; she had fallen asleep on a chair placed beside his bed.

Remus still felt a lot of pain, but it was nothing compared with what he had gone through. Stretching a little he saw he had several bandages in different parts of his body. Even his chest was wrapped up.

Mum opened her eyes.

"How are you, honey?" she asked looking concerned.

"I'm… I'm fine," Remus said. "It hurts, but not so much."

She nodded and checked on his legs' bandages.

Remus looked around his bed. Something was missing.

"Mum, where is my bear?"

She continued looking at the bandages.

"Mum?"

Finally she turned around to see him. She looked really sad.

"Your bear had a little accident, Remus," she said softly, "but I'll patch him up all right. He would be as good as new."

"Where's dad?" he asked again.

"He went outside, to talk to somebody who can help you with your disease."

"But you're a Healer. Can't you help me?" he asked.

She placed a soft hand on his forehead.

"There are some things I don't know, and Dad and I think I might need a hand."

Remus remained silent for a long moment, thinking about what she had said.

"Mum," he asked again.

"Yes?"

"Dad told me you were going to tell me about the wound. About my disease."

Amy Lupin sighed deeply.

"He will tell you when he's back."

"Can't you tell me?" Remus prompted. "Please?"

She sighed again.

"All right, I'll tell you," she finally said. "But you have to promise me you are going to be very brave."

"I am brave," Remus protested. "I've been brave all along!"

"I know, honey," she said, taking a deep breath. "Do you remember what a werewolf is?"

Remus looked at her, puzzled.

"Yeah, there was one in the story Dad read me… long ago. He ate a bunch of people."

Mum nodded.

"That's a tale and you know that some of the things in tales are not really true…"

"Are they lies?"

"Not exactly," Mum said, "they are tales, some things are real, and some others are fantasies, to amuse the kids or to teach them lessons."

Remus thought about this for a moment, and then he nodded.

"That scar you have, that was made by a werewolf," she said.

He opened his eyes wide and stretched his fingers to touch the place where the wound had been.

"Did he bit me?"

Mum nodded.

"Yes, honey, he bit you."

"How? I don't remember…"

But he did. He suddenly remembered that night, some weeks ago. He had had a very strange dream, a nightmare, there had been a monster, and it had jumped through the window and smashed the glass…

Mum was looking at him intently.

"Yeah…," he finally said, "I think there was something."

She nodded again.

"But why did he bit me?" Remus asked, "Why didn't he eat me?"

There were many questions but he needed to know the answers.

"We don't know, honey," Mum said, looking at the floor.

Both stayed silent for a long moment. She had opened one of the bandages and was applying some Dittany on it. The smell was terrible, but it felt great.

Remus was thinking about the story of the werewolf, wishing he could remember more of it. He had lived near a village and he had eaten a bunch of people… but something else had happened… something with the moon, and there had been a girl as well. The werewolf wanted to be friends with the girl, but there had been the moon… And if he had bitten the girl she would have became-

He gasped out loud.

"Does it hurt?" Mum asked.

Remus opened his eyes wide, there was something he had to know, and he had to know it now.

"Am I a werewolf?"

Tears formed in her Mum's eyes, and hastily tried to hide them.

"No, Remus," she said, and her voice was soft. "You are a boy. You are a wonderful boy."

"But last night-?"

"You are a boy with a disease," she spoke again. "And this disease will come back every month."

Remus nodded slowly, trying to understand.

"With the full moon…" he whispered.

* * *

**AN: I like to thank QueenCobraWing for being the first reader and reviewer of this tale, and especially for being so supportive! And a lot of thanks to Nikeroxx and felixlee14, who has stuck with Tonks' Tale since its very beginning and is being nice enough to read this one too. **

**A bit of a warning: though Remus' story is pretty much dark, I'd like to put some emphasis on the brighter parts, while sticking to canon. I don't like to get all angsty.**

**Cheers!**


	3. Strange things happening to him

April 25th 1970

He was somehow used to strange things happening to him. That did not mean he liked it. He did not, not even a bit.

He hated the wood cabin in the back of the garden. He knew his parents had put a number of spells on it, and that was the reason while it remained in place, despite of the rough treatment, to say the least, it got every month. He also knew they did their best to rend it as comfortable as possible each time, even though they all knew he would rip it all into pieces. Still, that did not make the cabin any nicer.

But he was getting used to that.

What he was not used to was the strange prickling in his hand, and least of all, what hat happened right after.

Remus extended his open hand in front of his eyes. Nothing happened, and yet, the palm felt funny, as if hundreds of small insects were walking up and down on it.

There was no need for him to check on the calendar placed on his bedside table. Full moon has been a week ago so, whatever this was, so it had nothing to do with being a werewolf. And yet, what was it?

He waved his hand impatiently. The prickling sensation went away.

A book was lying haphazardly on the floor. He stood up and took, in order to examine it closely. There was a burning mark on the cover and it was still warm. Something really strange had just happen indeed.

Remus tried to recreate the moment. He had been reading this Muggle novel his mother had handed him a few days ago, he had reached a part in which a big fight had been about to start and he had felt excited about it; so excited, in fact, that he had ignored the sting on his right palm. And then, out of the blue, there was fire between his hand and the book, and he had hastily thrown it to the floor and kicked it a couple of times, in order to extinguish the small flame.

Just then he had realised his hand felt funny. He looked at it and gasped out loud. There, in his palm, was a small flame dancing. Remus had shaken his hand with energy and it was gone.

But still… there were no burning marks on his skin. His palm displayed an old scar, three parallel lines from last month's transformation… but nothing else.

He went back to the page he was reading and try to recreate the scene. There they were, the four main characters, about to face the smuggler and who knew what would happen next.

There it was! The pricking!

And he had enough time now to drop the book before a small flame appeared in his palm.

It did not hurt, not at all. Remus stared at the dancing fire in his hand for a moment and then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it dissolved in thin air.

Talk about estrange things.

Taking the book off the floor and putting it carefully on the table, he went out. He wished Mum would be at home in order to ask her what this could be. At the same time, he felt her absence was for the better. She would always get so worried when something happened to him, even the slightest thing. And dad… it was close to impossible to get a straight answer from him, it was exasperating.

He was not sure how good or bad this could be, but he would not risk it. He knew what he had to do. This was hardly his first time.

_Many things have changed after his first transformation. He did not even remember how things were before, but he was sure there had been a change. There were days in which he was not allowed to see other people. There were days he felt terribly sick. And of course, there was that day, every month. _

_But there had been other changes as well. He had had to learn how to read a calendar and quickly enough, he knew all about moon phases, and he had had to force himself not to be scared. He had met a whole lot of people the months after his first transformation, and still, all this time later, funny folk kept coming once in a while._

_He hated those strangers. They were always testing spells and charms on him, making him drink funny looking potions or eat disgusting things. And then, every month, Mum and Dad will wait for something different to happen. They wanted him to heal._

_So did he, of course, but still, he did not understand. As much as he had tried to remember the only story he had learn on werewolves, he could not. And the book was missing. So, exactly what it meant to be one, he did not know._

_Another thing that had happened was that many of his books had gone missing. He had asked Dad about them, but he had not answered him. The other thing that was gone missing was his Dad's library. Of course it was still there, but he would keep it always closed with a key and Remus had been forbidden to go in there again._

_He did not need to be especially bright to realise something terrible must be laying in there, and curiosity was weighting on him, heavily._

_But now Remus had a plan. He had waited patiently for Dad to go to work to the Daily Prophet's Headquarters. A moment later and after being sure he had finished his breakfast and was all right, Mum had left for St. Mungo's._

_Finally he was alone and he was ready to do what he had wanted to for a very long time._

_He tried the library's door first. It was closed, he was not surprised. That was something he had counted on, but still, he had to check._

_He went outside then and walked around the house. There, at the rear façade of the building, in the landing of the stair that leaded to the attic: the window of Dad's library was not completely closed, and it was not even that high for a grown up but it sure was for a seven-year-old._

_Remus had it all figured out or at least he thought that. He went inside and out again, many times, carrying a chair with him in each trip. Finally, exhausted, he had succeeded. The pile was high enough for him to reach the window. Now, all he had to do was climb it._

_He had felt a pang of fear. What if something went wrong?_

_He shook his head. He would have to risk it._

_Trying to be very careful, he climbed up the chairs with some difficult. If only he were a little bit taller. After what seemed like a very long time, he finally reached the window. The railing of the glass pane was a bit rusty and it was difficult for him to open it but still… if he had reached this point, he would not give up._

_With an enormous jolt the window slid to the side. For this part of the task it was been actually fortunate that he was not bigger._

_Head first, he pushed himself inside the room. For a moment he had to blink. After the bright sun of the garden, the library seemed dimly lit. Piles of books covered the floor and the shelves were full of them as well. He did not remember Dad having this many books before, but then again, he had been really little. _

_He did not need to look much to find what he was looking for. Right on top of a tall pile of books was a black volume, bounded in leather, with one word carved on the surface._ Werewolves.

_Remus smiled. Finally, there he would find the answers for the questions he had gotten tired to ask. _

_He opened the book at a random page._

_Without being able to stop, he gasped out loud._

_The image displayed, covering most of the right side page, both scared him and fascinated him at once. It was a creature and it looked big and slightly hairy… but it was not an animal he could recognise. His feet looked like human feet, and his head seems to be that of a man, only strange looking. The figure rocked from one side of the page to the other, and the hair seemed to be growing quickly. Even though Remus could not hear anything, the expression of the man, the way he moved his hands, it all showed he was in pain._

_He turned the page. There was another impressive image; only this one did looked slightly sickening. It seemed like the bones of the creature were popping out his skin. The person who had drawn this had been careful to put dark drops all around. Remus suspected those might be drops of blood._

_Some pages after that was yet another image. Remus did not need to read the small caption to understand what it was: a transformed werewolf. It did not look much different than a wolf… not even different from a dog. Only… this one seemed to be mad at something. The moving figure gave a couple of restless steps on the mage and showed Remus its teeth. He knew that, if he could listen, the sound coming from the werewolf's mouth would have been a snarl._

So this is what I become?_ Remus thought, going back to see more pictures. _

_The author of the book seemed to have tried very hard to show how the werewolf transformed. He looked at the second picture again with revulsion. He felt lightheaded and he realised his little hands were trembling._

_Hastily he passed the page. The image of the transformed werewolf was not as disturbing as the previous ones, strangely enough. He just looked like an animal… there could not be something really wrong about that, could it?_

_There seemed to be more pictures some pages ahead and he passed hastily._

_The next one made him actually drop the book. _

_Scared by the sound of it, even though the house was empty, Remus picked it up and clutched to his chest._

_He needed to be brave, one more time._

_So he opened the book again, looking for the picture that had upset him so much. The creature did not look like an animal anymore. It was a monster all right. A monster eating a human. The werewolf's teeth sunk into a man's skin, once and twice, and again, and there was even more blood. The person who had drawn this seemed to have been really fond of this sort of effect._

Is this what I do?_ Remus thought again. _It can be! I'm on my own when there's a full moon! But then…?

_Again the book proved to be useful. There was another picture and, after seeing that one, Remus wished he would have stayed in his room as he had been told._

_The werewolf was not eating a human in this one. He was biting his own body, his own furry skin. Slightly revolted Remus looked at the drawing, without being able to take his eyes off it. The creature seemed to be howling and then he turned to face his own back and gave a deep bite to it. Again, there was a lot of blood._

_But what did that mean?_

_Remus looked down to the caption of the drawing, to read the explanation._

"At a lack of proper pray, werewolves would attack themselves, biting and scratching their own bodies, in order to feed from their own blood. The scars displayed by a werewolf when he is back to human form, thus, correspond both to the transformation and to the wounds inflicted by it if he had not been able to satisfy its thirst and hunger with a human being."

_Remus rolled his sleeve and looked at his arm. There were three parallel red lines, a scar that was just healing. Had he done that to himself? Because he was not allow to eat humans? And how on earth could he do that? He imagined Mum and Dad, and tried to picture himself as the hairy beast on the book. Could he possible eat them?_

_He closed his eyes shut and tried to breath. He was trembling and he felt nauseated. Careful he placed the book back on top of the pile, feeling the tears running down his cheeks. It did not matter that Mum kept telling him to be brave. He was not. He was little, and alone, and he was very scared. _

_Still trembling and tripping a little he approached the window again. He wanted out; he wanted to be back in his bedroom. Remus wished he could just forget what he had seen. _

_He passed one leg to the other side of the window and then the other, trying to find the chair with the tip of his feet. Only, he did it too hastily and kicked it too hard. The small pile of chairs staggered and, as if it was in slow motion, one by one they felt haphazardly on the ground._

_Remus looked around, his hands still holding to the window. There was no way he could climb down the straight wall._

_An involuntary whimper escaped his lips. What was he going to do?_

_There was only one answer to that. Closing his eyes again, he slid down the window until he was hanging from it, his hands firm on the window rail. He just had to jump and hope for the best. And if something happened to him…_

"_I'm a monster," he said out loud. "Who cares if something happens to me?"_

_And with that, he let go of the window._

He was much taller now. He only needed two chairs to reach the window of his father's library. It had not been that high to begin with. That first time he had been just a little bit bruised afterwards and Mum had never realised those marks had not being produced during his last transformations.

Now, all those full moons after, he had made an habit out of climbing up his Dad's library and reading books that should have been forbidden to him.

He had learned a lot about being a werewolf, or, as people called it, lycanthropy. He was used by now to the strange figures those books portrayed, and to the detailed descriptions of the transformation. Still, he had never being completely comfortable with that one book he read on his first incursion in there. The nightmares had lasted too long and even now, sometimes after a especially painful transformation, those very images, black and white drawing of a transforming werewolf, kept coming into his mind. He hated those images.

With his own experience he now knew a lot of the things on the books were not true, or not completely true. And he also knew there was no cure.

But he did not care now.

What he did care about, he thought while climbing up the chairs, was this strange thing he had never read about. The flames on his hand.

* * *

**AN: I can't thank you enough for reading and reviewing this tale. I've got the best two reviews of my entire life in the first two chapters of Lupin's Tale and I am both immensely grateful and a bit overwhelmed. **

**Star_Ash_Myst, QueenCobraWing, felixlee14, sliz225 and Nikeroxx, thank you, thank you, thank you very much!**

**Cheers!**


	4. Diagon Alley was a busy as ever

July 1971

Diagon Alley was a busy as ever under the heat of the sun. Remus liked it very much there, being surrounded by wizards and witches, even if they would not stop and chat with them, going inside the many wonderful shops, looking at the owls and the brooms, and the many books displayed on the windows.

Her mother was walking at his side. Just a moment ago he had asked her not to hold his hand anymore and she had chuckled a little. He was pretty sure no eleven-year-old would walk down the street holding her mother's hand. That was stuff small kids would do, and he was quite fine on his own thank you very much.

Finally they reached the Apothecary, and while her mother talked to the shop keeper, he got distracted looking at the many ingredients on the shelves and hanging from the ceiling.

"Move over, boy," the harsh voice made him jump sideways.

A tall wizard was trying to reach for some alligator skin hanging right over Remus' head and he was getting on the way.

"Sorry, sir," he muttered, looking at him.

He gasped out loud and instantly felt ashamed of it. The wizard, fortunately, seemed to have not noticed it, concentrated on choosing the best piece of dried skin. His face was the most bizarre face Remus had seen in his life. He had mismatched eyes, one of them was black and the other was much larger and bright blue.

Suddenly that very eye looked at him, even though the black one was still sorting out skins.

"Give us a hand, boy, would ya?" grunted the man.

Remus just nodded.

"Keep these for me for a sec."

And the wizard threw a couple of skins on Remus arms, still looking for some more.

"There's no need to stare at me like that, you know?" said the man and, embarrassed, Remus looked down.

What he saw made him almost gasp out loud again. It was not only his eyes: this man had a wooden leg, instead of a normal one. This was odd but somehow not entirely unfamiliar. When had Remus seen somebody with a leg just like that one.

"Remus, we're leaving," his mother called, approaching them.

The wizard spun around and looked both at him and at his mother, his blue eye spinning fast on its socket.

"Remus?" he asked, and his voice was now much softer, although it still sounded like a grunt.

Amy Lupin was also looking at him.

"It's you," she said on a flat voice.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Lupin," the man said, extending a callous hand.

His mother hesitated for a moment and then shook it.

"And you are Remus," the man said again.

"Hello," Remus said, also taking this man's hand. Against his skin, it felt as if that too was made of wood.

"I must say, you've grown a lot all right," he said. "How old are you?"

Remus frowned again. So he had indeed seen this man before.

"I'm eleven."

Moody looked at his mother now and Remus felt it was as if they were communicating silently.

"We have to go, Remus," she suddenly said, putting an arm on his shoulder.

"Right," he said, and gave the alligator skins to the wizards.

"Thanks for your help, young man," he replied.

"No problem," Remus said, but he had to turn around. His mother was pulling him away from the man with the bright blue eye.

* * *

August 1971

The newcomer was one of the most strange-looking wizards Remus had seen in his life. He was tall and had white hair and bear, long enough to tuck them in his belt. He was not unknown to him either, even though he had to think for a couple of minutes why this face did seem so familiar to him.

His parents had been really surprised to see the tall wizard on their footstep, but they were pleased with the visit nonetheless and beaming nervously they had shown him into the sitting room.

Mum had not even allowed Remus to greet the visitor. She had ordered him to go to his room; they were going to discuss grown-ups matters. At this news, he had to make an effort not to groan out loud. Now he knew what this was about. How many times had he been forced to wait while they parents discussed 'grown-ups matters', just to have to come to him later and test something new. It could be a potion, spells, even funny food, but so far it all had been pointless.

No matter how many wizards or witches were consulted by their parents, no matter how many funny things he, Remus, were forced to make, there just was no cure for lycanthropy. And even though he wished, more than anything, to have a normal life and do normal things, he also wished his parents would give up. He, at least, was tired of raising his hopes.

Still, there was the fact that the face of the tall wizard was familiar and Remus could not be content until he found out where he had seen that face before.

_In a book? Nope, it was something recent, something smaller… That's it__!_

He fished under his bed for a small carton box. It was full of Chocolate Frog's cards. He had been right, there he was: the wizard's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Remus read the card with interest. Other than being the current headmaster of Hogwarts, he had defeated Grindelwald and had been working in alchemy.

_Eww, I do hope they don't make me drink dragon blood next!_ He thought with a grimace. _I've had worse… but I don't want to repeat the experience!_

He looked at the picture for a long moment. The Dumbledore in the card winked at him, and Remus decided he seemed to be friendly enough. It was no use getting impatient anyway, he would find out what this visitor wanted soon enough. The figure did not seem to agree with him; a couple of seconds later, Remus saw him walking out the frame.

_Just as well,_ he thought.

Grabbing a batted old book that was lying open and face down on his bed, he resumed his reading.

He was still processing the first sentence when his mother's voice carried down the hall.

"Remus, come here, honey!"

He dropped the book and stood up at once. There was a ringing in her mother's voice he had not heard for a long time. It seemed she was… excited. Giving one look at the still empty Chocolate Frog card, he headed to the sitting room.

Dumbledore and his parents were sitting around the coffee table; the three of them were smiling broadly.

"This is Remus," Dad said, "Son, this man is Professor Dumbledore."

Remus approached the tall wizard, his hand outstretched.

"How do you do, sir?" he said quietly.

"Very fine indeed, Remus. How are you?"

In a very quick glance, almost instinctive, he looked outside the window. The moon was almost inexistent; it looked as a small fingernail hanging on the back sky.

"I'm very good, sir."

The gesture did not go unnoticed to the visitor and he looked outside the window as well.

"Ah," he just said. "Please, Remus, sit down," he added, pointing at the chair closest to him.

He looked at his parents, both nodded encouraging and he did as he was told.

"Is it possible for you to leave as alone, just for a short moment?" he asked to his parents.

Still beaming, they exited the room without a word, and Remus felt uneasy. _What is this about?_

"I would like to introduce myself," Dumbledore spoke again. "I am Headmaster-"

"At Hogwarts," Remus prompted.

Dumbledore looked a bit puzzled at him.

"I read it in a Chocolate Frog card," he explained hastily. "You face seemed familiar."

The old wizard chuckled.

"I see," he said. "And what do you know about Hogwarts, Remus?"

He looked at his hands when answering. This was a question whose answer he knew very well, but still he was not eager to say it.

"It's a school for magic," he muttered. "They train young wizards and witches in different areas such as Charms and Potions, while teaching them how to control their powers."

It was a very sad question indeed.

"How would you like to attend Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Remus stopped looking at his fingers and focused his gaze on the man's eyes instead. They were blue, and piercing even though he was wearing half-moon spectacles; it seemed as if he could read into his thoughts. It was a question with a very obvious answer. Too bad he was not allowed to that sort of answer this time.

"I… I'd very much like that, sir. The thing is…" he looked at the closed door, knowing that his parents were nearby, and then back into Dumbledore's eyes. _How much should I tell this man?_ "The thing is, sir, I'm ill. And I don't think I would be able to… to carry on with the work… at the school. I… my father is planning to teach me at home, he's even going to get me a wand, and teach me how to use it… because I'm ill."

Dumbledore looked at him intently.

"I see,"

"I am sorry, sir," Remus felt he had to say something else. After all, he had just refused the Headmaster! "I would very much go, sir, honestly! But, as I just said-"

"You're ill," the old wizard completed the sentence.

"Well, yeah," Remus nodded.

Dumbledore looked out the window again.

"Our sentimental friend, the moon," he said, the tips of his long fingers pressed together, as if he was about to pray.

"I'm sorry?" Remus asked. _Does he know?_

"Nothing important," Dumbledore replied, "just a line of a Muggle poem that came into my mind all of a sudden. Your father tells me you have accomplished some pretty good wandless magic," he added and the change of subject was so sudden it caught him off guard.

"Yeah…" he said, slowly.

"Would you show me?"

Remus stretched out his hand, and frowning slightly, concentrated on it. Golden flames erupted from his palm. With a quick wave of his hand he made them disappear in thin air.

"That is very nice, very nice indeed," Dumbledore was beaming. "I don't know if somebody has told you this, but there are very few wizards who can perform that kind of magic."

Remus smiled.

"Dad mentioned it," he said, carried away by the old wizard encouragement. "And I can make things move… but not always, that one is much trickier."

"Indeed it is," he said.

Both stayed silent for a moment.

"Listen, Remus," Dumbledore spoke again, leaning forward a little, "what if I told you your being… ill… would not be a problem at Hogwarts?"

Remus thought his answer for a moment. His parents' not being there was beginning to be a problem. The question formed again inside his head. _How much should I tell this man?_

"I'd say I'd have to explain you a little more about my… illness."

"And what if I told you I know all about it?" the old wizard actually winked at this statement.

"Did my parents tell you that?" Remus asked surprised.

"Not your parents, no," Dumbledore said calmly. "An old, very good friend of mine came into my office a couple of days ago. He said he knew you and that, according to his calculations, it would be about time for you to go to school. He also told me about that problem of yours and asked if there was anything I could do about it. About you being able to attend school, that is."

Remus looked at him curiously.

"Who is that friend, sir?" he asked.

"Alastor Moody… he goes by the name of Mad-Eye these days."

Remus racked his brain but he could not recall having heard of him before. Dumbledore seemed to have noticed it, for he spoke again.

"He knew you, long ago," he said slowly, "precisely the night you got that nasty bite on your thigh."

He frowned, lost in his thoughts. There was very little he remembered from that night, he had been very little and after that, many other painful events had passed, blurring his memory. But then… there had been.

"I…," he said slowly, "I don't think I remember…"

"If I tell you he has one very bright blue eye, does that ring a bell?"

Remus opened his mouth in surprise.

"The man of the alligator skins!"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled.

"I make sure he knows that you've called him that," he said, and then, in an earnest tone, he added, "what brings me tonight is the question I asked you moments ago: would you like to attend Hogwarts?"

Remus shook his head slowly. This was turning into the most bizarre, yet pointless conversation of his entire life.

"I'm… I'm a werewolf," he said simply. "I can't be around people, let alone sleep in the same dormitory with them during a full moon!"

"You won't," Dumbledore said. "We have made many especial arrangements for you to be able to attend, such as a secure location for your transformations and special cares of our Matron. The teachers, of course, would be informed about your condition, but you would not have to tell anybody else, and thus, you could lead a normal life most of the time."

Remus' eyes opened wide.

"Really? And could I… attend lessons? And live in the castle and…?"

The man in front of him was smiling widely.

"And many more things as well, you'd be amazed." Suddenly his tone became much graver. "I would have to ask you to be really very careful, Remus. Even though we will make our best to keep you and everybody else safe, it is also up to you to behave responsibly about your lycanthropy. I need your word on this matter. We will accept you if, and only if, you promise you won't do anything that might risk others both inside and outside the school. Do I have your word, Remus?"

He looked into the man's blue eyes, through his half-moon spectacles. He was sure he was somebody with whom he could not mess around.

Solemnly he stretched his hand, and Professor Dumbledore took it.

"I promise, sir."

* * *

**AN: And this tale is back on track too! Thank you very much for your patience!**

**Cheers!**


	5. They were early, but Remus did not mind

_September __1__st__ 1970_

They were early, but Remus did not mind. Forgetting for once he was a big boy now, he was clutching her mother's hand, looking the enormous bright red engine of the Hogwarts Express. It was an impressive view, the clouds of steam filling the platform, several straight cats meowing, some students arriving as well, pushing their trolleys with trunks, owls in cages and several packages. He almost wished time would stop so he could see it all carefully and enjoy it.

"What if I'm not good enough?" he asked in a soft voice.

His Dad chuckled. He had been in such good spirits lately, Remus was sorry he was to leave him and his Mum soon.

"That's not going to happen, you will be good all right," he said.

"And what if I'm not sorted into Ravenclaw?" Remus asked again.

"That is not important, son, not really," his Dad said, lowering down to get closer.

Remus smiled, but he was feeling somewhat uneasy. The last month had been the happiest of his life since he could remember, and even the full moon at the very middle of August had done nothing lo lower his spirits.

The fact that he was going to Hogwarts was something he would have never thought possible, and the happiness afterwards had been immense. His enthusiasm seemed to have spread to every corner of the house. Of maybe it was only that his parents were really happy as well.

He did not remember when had it been the last time he and his dad hat climbed up tress, or when had his mother spent so much time in the kitchen.

Now, however, he was starting to feel afraid.

"What if I miss you too much?"

"You won't have time to miss us," now it was his Mum who spoke, a wide smile on her face. "You'll be busy with lessons, and Quidditch, and friends."

"You should go and check the library once you get a chance," Dad added, "it's so enormous you won't have enough time to read it all."

"Really?" Remus asked, wide eyed.

"And," his Mum added, "we'll write to you, every day. And," she lowered her voice to almost a whisper, "if you need me after the next full moon, they'll let me know and I'll be there in no time."

Remus nodded.

The platform was now rapidly filling with people calling at each other and shouting names, greeting old friends and saying good-bye to parents.

"You might want to get yourself a spot in a compartment before they all get full," his father said.

Remus nodded and pushed his trolley next to one of the doors.

"I'll help you with that," Dad spoke again, heaving the trunk and pulling it inside the train. "It's good to be back here," he added smiling.

Remus looked at him.

"It is going to be great, Dad, isn't it?"

"It's going to be the best time of your life," he assured him."

* * *

The train was rattling towards north and Remus was sitting on a compartment looking out the window and feeling both scared and lonely. Sure, being amongst young witches and wizards his age seemed to be a great idea, in theory… The truth was he was actually afraid of all these people being noisy and talking non stop. He had never found himself in such a situation. Sharing the space with him, even though they did not pay him the faintest attention, were two boys from about his age, talking non-stop about Quidditch.

He would have wanted to join in, but he had no idea how he should do that. Besides it seemed rude to interrupt them like that. Or maybe it was not?

Maybe he should go and find another place to stay, somewhere where the people would keep a little quieter, but he suspected the situation would be just the same somewhere else.

Suddenly, a girl came in, ignoring the two boys sitting next to the door. She sat right in front of Remus, ignoring him as well, and crouched next to the wall, as if she was trying to occupy the smallest possible area in the place. He took a glimpse at her and saw she was crying.

"Are you… are you all right?" he asked hesitantly in a voice barely audible.

The girl looked at him with puffy green eyes and shook her head. She was really pretty and somehow he had the impression she would have been friendly if she had not been crying.

"Don't worry," Remus said, still whispering, "they tell me it's gonna be great."

Before the girl could say anything, the compartment door slid open again and another boy entered. He was already wearing his school robes and looked a little too pale, as if he had not been under the sun in ages.

The newcomer, ignoring Remus, sat on the small space between him and the window, facing the girl.

The girl in front of him looked up as well and finally, she spoke.

"I don't want to talk to you."

Remus considered for an instant playing the part of the gentleman he knew so well from the many stories he had read, and tell the new boy to do he was told and leave, but he was talking rapidly to her now and it seemed she did not actually meant for him to go away.

_It will be better not to stick my nose in somebody else's business_, he though, looking sadly at his own fingernails.

He would have preferred this newcomer would not have showed up. It seemed, for an instant, that he could actually talk to the girl.

Now the other two boys have joined in the conversation.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," said the one sitting next to him.

"Blimey," said the boy sitting in front of them, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

Remus tried not to listen yet again. He was not sure what kind of reaction would he get if he said he rather be in Ravenclaw, like his Mum and Dad. It felt as if the two boys were about to fight the pale boy soon.

Finally the girl and the boy, whose name apparently was Severus, left the compartment. The two other boys mocked them for a while and then stayed quiet. It seemed that _quiet_ was not their natural state, at least, nor for long periods.

"Are you a first year too? Where would you want to be sorted into?" the boy sitting next to him asked out of the blue, nudging him on the ribs.

Startled a little, Remus thought for an instant.

"It's not that important, is it?" he murmured. "That's what my dad told me."

He regretted having say that at once.

"Not important?" the boy sitting in front looked at him in disbelief. "Of course it is important! It's with the people of your house you're spending most of the time, isn't it?"

"Maybe…" Remus said hesitantly. "But how being in one house would make you better than being in other?"

The boy in front of her thought for a moment.

"Well," he said slowly. "I reckon all Slytherins are sort of foul. But then," he hurried to add, "Sirius just said his whole family was there so…"

"They're all mental, my family," the boy named Sirius said smiling. "I'm not proud or anything."

"But if you could chose," the other boy pressed on, looking at Remus, "where would you like to be?"

He was starting to feel nervous. It was as if he was being tested, and if something terribly important depended on her answer.

And then he felt heat on the palm of his hand. He tried to shake it quickly, hoping the other two had not seen the small flame dancing on it.

"Blimey, what was that? Did you see it, James?" the boy named Sirius pointed at Remus' hand.

He felt his cheeks burn. Now they would think he was a freak.

"Was that fire?" the other boy, the one named James, asked eagerly.

Remus looked at both of them. They did not seem scared or disgusted… just interested, and maybe even a bit excited.

"It's… it's nothing," he murmured.

"Does it hurt?" James asked.

"No, it's just… I do it on purpose… most of the times," Remus stuttered. "Sometimes it just… happens."

"Can you do it again?" Sirius asked, "come on!"

He nudged him in the rib again, but it seemed this was a friendly gesture.

Remus smiled a little and stretched his hand between the three of them. A second later a bright golden flame was dancing on his palm.

"Wicked!" Sirius said.

"Brilliant!" James added, stretching a finger to touch the flame. "Is it real fire?"

"I guess," Remus said.

James' fingertip was already too near.

"It feels hot, do you feel it?"

"No, I don't, but…" Remus waved his hand and the flame disappeared. "Afterwards my hand is."

Sirius grasped his hand.

"It is!" he said excitedly. "It's genius!"

Remus smiled at them.

"So who are you anyway?" James asked.

"I'm Remus," he said.

"Oh you two better get sorted into Gryffindor," James stated.

"And what makes you so sure you'll do?" Sirius asked.

James did not answer but looked affronted.

Remus, however, thought that wherever it was these two boys were going to be sorted, he hoped he'll get there too.

* * *

They did not have to worry, though.

The Sorting Hat stayed less than an instant on top of Sirius' head before shouting "_Gryffindor!_" and he took it off, looking around slightly confused. Remus noticed his gaze focused on the Slytherin table for an instant, before he sprinted towards the end of his correspondent table, beaming.

Remus wandered what happened when the Hat was on somebody's head. Would it crack it open and see what was inside? None of the kids seemed to be in pain while wearing it, even though they look a bit concerned.

"Lupin, Remus!" the short plump Professor at their side called.

Remus gave a deep breath and climbed up to the three-legged stool, grabbing the Sorting Hat and putting it on. The last thing he saw before it covered his eyes was James' mouth muttering something at him but he did not get what it was. Then it was darkness, and a soft voice spoke right into his ear.

"Well, well, well, this is unusual."

It was as if the blood on his veins had frozen. A terrible thought occurred to him.

_Is it possible that, instead of the name of one house, the Hat would scream 'werewolf'?_

"Of course not, don't be stupid!" the voice said with contempt. "I'm not your average pompous top-hat!"

Remus was not that convinced.

"What brains, my boy, really grand. But there is also courage… and loyalty. I do like it when somebody is this tricky, you know?"

He did not care, not at all. Why did he always have to be different? And why would the Hat not scream something already.

"So you don't like to be different, I can understand that." The hat seemed to be enjoying his talking. "Many of you are like that and yet… amazing things happen only to those uncommon."

_Come on,_ Remus thought feeling he was going to burst with impatience, _scream the house already._

"I'm getting there," he heard the voice again, "_Gryffindor!_"

The Great Hall was filled with applause and Remus finally took the Hat off, shuddering a little. He was so relieved it had not yelled everybody around what he really was and that he had gotten somewhere, he had hardly heard to which house he had been sorted into.

"Brilliant!" James muttered when he passed near him.

_Am I a Gryffindor?_

Looking around he realized that one was the table clapping the loudest so he walked down there as "Meadowes, Dorcas" was called to the stool.

He sat in front of Sirius and of the girl from the train. He now knew her name was Lily Evans. She did not seem happy at all and was sitting really straight, looking at the sorting giving her back to the rest of the table.

"This is great," Sirius said to him over the table. "Now let's hope James would join us."

Remus nodded, but he did not know what to say.

"It took some time to make up its mind on you, didn't it?" Sirius spoke again.

"Yeah," he shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "It said I was tricky."

The boy in front of him gave a bark-like laugh.

"Ha! He said to me he was going to enjoy putting a Black into Gryffindor and that was it."

Remus looked at the receding group of first years as "Mulciber, Acton" was being sorted into Slytherin.

"Aren't your parents going to be disappointed?" he asked quietly.

He had to repeat the question, the noise around them as "Pettigrew, Peter" had became a Gryffindor drowned his words.

"Yeah, I bet they'll be," Sirius said with a maniac grin. "That's what's genius of this!"

He was suddenly feeling too overwhelmed from the noise and the crown around them. The boy named Pettigrew took a sit next to him. He looked even more impressed than Remus felt, and he figured that was something.

"Here he goes," Sirius said.

Remus looked at the stool again, right when James was putting on the hat.

And just like with Sirius, it did not take time at all to yell the name of their house.

"Great!" Remus said, without being able to stop himself.

"Yeah!" Sirius replied, "move over," he added to Lily, who looked annoyed but obliged anyway.

"We made it," James said while sitting down. "We're Gryffindors."

Remus could honestly say he really did not care. Not much, at least. He was amongst _them_ and that seemed to be the only important, great thing of the sorting.


	6. He had not gotten used to

_September 5__th__ 1971_

He had not gotten used to even sleep in his own four poster bed, nor to get up that early to attend lessons and least of all to be surrounded by so many people; adding headaches to all that was asking a tad too much.

On the whole, he was to be grateful his first full moon at Hogwarts would be on a Sunday. It would be easier for him to sneak into the Hospital Wing and into that place they had built for him to be during his transformations. James and Sirius had been there less than a week and were already counting how many secret passageways they had discovered; Remus very much doubted the Headmaster would want to risk any curious kid to accidentally cross with a werewolf while wandering the school; therefore he was going to a place outside school grounds.

He did not have to make any effort to wake up early that Sunday morning. His head had been throbbing during the entire night and he was starting to feel pain in his arms and legs. He would have gone to the Hospital Wing at four except he very much doubted the matron would be up at that time.

Finally it was nearly seven o'clock. Reasonably enough to go downstairs and grab a bite before meeting the school nurse. As quiet as possible he stood up and put his clothes on. He looked around briefly, wondering if he should take something else.

His eyes rested on his wand on the night table. Should he have it with him? He was not really used yet to carry it around all the time and he was almost sure he would break it as a twig when transformed. Still, he pocketed it and made to the door.

"Remus?" Peter's voce made him freeze, his hand on the door handle.

He turned around slowly. Peter was looking at him through his bed's curtains, his eyes half closed, obviously not completely awake.

"Where are you going this early?"

Remus felt panic rising inside him. What should he say? How could he produce a lie so fast?

"Er… headaches," he muttered, deciding on the spot that part of the truth would not be that bad. "I'll get something."

"Uhm… all right."

Peter's head disappeared and Remus hoped he would go back to sleep, and maybe even forget what he had just seen.

He climbed down the stairs of the tower and crossed the common room hoping not to meet anybody on his way down. Two big boys, probably seven years, were walking in front of him, going for an early bite as well, but he guessed they wound not pay attention to a first year. Deciding anyway that it could be risky to go to the Great Hall in case James or Sirius or anybody wanted to get some breakfast, he headed straight to the Hospital Wing.

The door was unlocked and he entered and closed it hastily at his back. He had never been in this place before. There were two rows of empty beds on each side and sunlight was entering generously through large paned windows. He wondered if so many beds had ever been used at the same time and how would it be to lie on one.

He would soon enough find out, he was sure of that.

A door at the other side opened and Madam Pomfrey came out, probably alerted by the sound of the door.

"You are early, son," she said looking concerned. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He did not want her to worry more than what was necessary.

"Nonsense, does your head hurt?"

She approached him a put a hand on his forehead nodding a little.

Remus released a breath he did not know he had been holding. He had not realised until now but he had been afraid the matron would be scared of him when the time would come for his transformations. There was nothing of the sort. She was looking at him just the way she had on his second day at school, when Professor Dumbledore had introduced them briefly.

"You have a temperature," she commented, interrupting his thoughts.

"That's normal," he said.

"So I've heard," she nodded.

Both looked at each other for a long time and finally Madame Pomfrey spoke again.

"Your transformation won't start until sunset and we agreed that it will be then that I'll take you to the Whomping Willow… and you're not filling ill. So, why are you here this early?"

Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably.

"I… er… I don't want… I don't want them to see me going…" he trailed off.

"Your mates?"

Remus nodded, unconvinced. Were they his 'mates'? He could honestly say he had never had proper 'mates', how was he supposed to know if that time they had been sharing these few days indicated they were indeed somewhat close. They were observant, and curious, he was certain of that. And he knew that his disappearance would raise a lot of questions he was not sure he could answer.

Some of it must have shown in his face for Madam Pomfrey nodded.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I'll get you something."

* * *

Even though he had done nothing but read a book sitting on one corner of the Hospital Wing, the day had passed much too quickly and now the bluish shadows of the trees outside were telling what he already knew from the boiling feeling and the raising temperature inside his body. The night was coming, the moon was about to appear and punish him the way she did every month.

"I think it's time now."

The Matron was coming out of her office, wearing a long black cloak. He handed a similar one to him and he put it over his clothes.

"There might be students outside," Remus said looking out the window. "What if someone sees us?"

Madam Pomfrey smiled.

"Come here," she said drawing her wand.

She tapped his head softly and he felt as if somebody had slowly emptied a glass of warm water on him. He looked down at his feet and saw that they were not longer there… or to be precise, they were the exact colour of the wooden floor underneath them.

"Nobody will see you," she explained, "and I don't think anybody would find odd to see me walking down the grounds."

"What's that spell?" he asked curious.

"It's called Disillusionment Charm. It makes you nearly invisible."

She put a hand on his shoulders, probably guessing exactly where they were and gently pushed him to the door.

He did not know if it was because he was this close to her, or maybe the werewolf sharp senses were starting to kick in… He was certain the calm look he saw on the matron was not real; she was nervous and maybe even afraid. The fact that despite of that she was still holding him firmly made his heart swell.

They had to walk for a while now, and Remus was trying to do so fast as he could. The moon would not rise for a while now and he knew it, but he was really nervous nonetheless. Finally, they reached the base of a strange looking tree. Professor Dumbledore had already explained what he was going to find: this was the Whomping Willow.

Madam Pomfrey took her wand of and levitated a branch into a spot in the base of the tree. The branches, that until a moment ago had been swaying lazily, stood perfectly still.

"You have to remember this, Remus," she whispered. "So you'll do it on your own next time."

He nodded, and realising she was not able to see him, he said a soft "yes," trying hard for his voice to sound firm.

"You remember what Professor Dumbledore said," she continued. "Go down the tunnel right to the end of it and climb up. You'll find the house. Don't worry about the place, all right? You'll be safe."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said again.

"Do you have your wand with you?"

Remus took it out of his pocket and put it into Madam Pomfrey's hand. The instant the wood touched the skin, it became visible again.

"I'll take care of it for you until tomorrow, all right? We don't' want it to break by accident."

He could not say anything now. He felt his mouth dry and his palms sweaty.

"Off you go, then," she added.

He had to be brave. A very different type of bravery than the one her Mum had always told him he must have. This time, he would be completely on his own.

If somebody would have ask him late how had he reached the house they had built for him and the outskirts of Hogsmeade he would have honestly said he did not remember. It was a long dark corridor and he guessed at some point he must had gone under the walls that surrounded the castle, but other than that, in his haste to get there as quickly as possible, he could not say if it had been a long walk or not.

The house was new and it looked like a fine building. He wished he could see it from the outside, but he knew he was not allowed. And there was also the many charms Professor Dumbledore had put on the surroundings, preventing people to get inside the house.

Remus closed the trap door leading to the tunnel and did the many latches they were. He knew that his wolf paws would not be able to undo them, and the trap itself had been charmed as well. The next day, Madam Pomfrey would undo the latches with her wand and she would take care of him. So he had been told.

The only thing he had to do now was to wait, and not for too long. It was already dark outside.

He explored every room of the house. On a closer look, it was a handsome place indeed. He knew it would not look like that much longer, his wolfish self would take care of that, and he felt sorry for it. Still, they had told him this was necessary in order to spread the rumour the house was haunted. It was a far better story than the real one. Nobody would like to be this close of a werewolf even though if most of the time it was ju-st a harmless boy.

Looking through a window he distinguished the golden lights of the castle. He imagined they would be having diner by now. He could practically see Sirius taking three servings of whatever would be at his reach, and James making fun of him, and Peter laughing at their antics. He wondered if they would notice he was gone.

That was his last conscious thought before the white light of the full moon, as bright as the tiny golden spots in the castle, illuminate the house.

* * *

He groaned and opened his eyes. Somebody had put a blanket over him and was banding over his body, taking care of some of his wounds with a tad less care than usual.

"Mum," he protested a little, his voice hoarse.

The person did not speak and he had to blink several times to put the picture on focus.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," he said again, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"It's all right, dear."

He had not known her much, but still he could tell her voice sounded different as it had done the day before. It was as if she had a bad head cold.

For a long moment none of them say a thing.

Remus could feel the familiar stinging sensation on his wounds, meaning that they were being healed. Carefully he raised his hand and touched his face, it felt funny; he had a cut running through one side, he could feet it under his fingers. Remus groaned loudly.

"Does it hurt?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Remus shook his head and instantly regretted it.

"No," he said. "It's just… people will see my face is hurt."

Madam Pomfrey was looking at him with an expression he could not understand.

"I can't do anything about that," she said softly. "You know these wounds wouldn't just heal with regular spells."

"I know, I know," Remus hastily replied, trying to raise his torso and lean on his elbows. The pain was too strong to endure and he fell loudly on the wooden floor.

"Easy now," the matron said. "You have to rest. I'll levitate you to the school, all right?"

He nodded, trying to suppress a sob.

Looking at the lavender light of the early hours of the morning, the only thing he could do was being grateful another full moon was over. He felt very tired.

* * *

**AN: A bit of a warning. Although this tale is partly set on the so called "Marauder era" it won't be centred in the four of them, this will be above it all about Remus. Having said that... thanks a lot to those great readers and reviewers!**

**Cheers!**


	7. Remus opened his eyes again

Remus opened his eyes again in what felt like a second later. Only now he could see through the windows the crimson colour of the sky right before sunset. Had he slept the whole day? Where was he to begin with? It was a soft bed with white sheets; looking around he realised he was in the Hospital Wing. It seemed deserted.

Mechanically, the way he always did after a full night, he looked at his arms and legs, checking on the amount of damage received. A bandage was circling his torso. That was a broken rib, he was sure of that. His left arm was also covered with small patches of gauze. He lifted carefully one of them and saw the familiar scratches on his skin. What concerned him the most, however, was the more visible damage on his face. Softly, Remus approached his fingers to his face. There was another patch, a long one, covering his right cheek and part of his temple.

He had been especially rough this time.

The door opened and he jerked his head to look at the newcomer, wishing he could be invisible. The gesture made him groan softly, it was very painful. He did not have to fear though. Professor Dumbledore was approaching his bed, followed by Madam Pomfrey.

"I see you are awake now," he said in a friendly voice.

"Yes, sir." Remus answered, his mouth felt terribly dry. "I'm sorry I slept for so long, I missed my classes."

Professor Dumbledore took a sit near his bed.

"We knew that was bound to happen, Remus. There is no need to worry about it just yet. You should only make sure that you pull alongside with what had been done on your classes."

Remus nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"How had your first days at school been so far?" the Headmaster asked.

Remus smiled, trying to sum it all in few words.

"It had been… great, sir. There are still so many things to learn."

Dumbledore smiled as well.

"Ah! That Remus is a great truth. And the best I could wish is for you to keep thinking like that even when school is over."

Remus smiled as well, not sure if he had understood what the Professor meant.

"Do you feel like going back to class tomorrow?" the Headmaster suddenly asked.

"Sure, sir, I do."

Trying to prove his point, Remus tried to sit up. It was still painful but he was sure he could manage.

"Careful, boy," Madam Pomfrey voice floated from her office. She approached the bed and checked on Remus' bandages. "Headmaster, I don't know if he will be fit to…"

"Of course I am," Remus prompted. "At home I used to get up the next day of my transformation!"

It was a lie, but he tried his best to make it sound convincing. He knew that the longer he stayed in there, the more difficult to answer possible questions would be. And he very much doubted he could come up with a story solid enough to convince his schoolmates for his absences and his wounds.

"I think this is a decision you have to make, Remus," Professor Dumbledore spoke again. "You can go to your classes if you feel strong enough. But I must ask you to not hesitate in coming here if you need anything."

"I will, sir."

Dumbledore stood up and turned around to leave.

"Sir?" Remus called after him.

"Yes, Remus?"

"Thank you."

* * *

He woke up quite early the next morning. After all, he had been sleeping for almost an entire day. Somebody had left clean school robes at the foot of his bed for him to wear and he hastily washed and got ready. He was on the process of doing his tie when Madam Pomfrey finally emerged from her office.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, somewhat briskly.

"I'm good," Remus said, smiling. His face hurt a bit and he tried his best for it not to show.

The matron, it seemed, was almost impossible to fool.

"Are you sure you fell all right?"

"I am. Really. Please, don't worry about it."

She pressed her lips in a grimace but finally nodded.

Remus felt uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do. He simply _had_ to go to be normal, or, at least, behave so. There was no arguing that.

"I'm sorry," he felt he had to add. "I'm sorry for the extra work… and everything."

He looked uncomfortable at his feet.

"Don't mention it," she said, examining her wounds. "I think it would be better to remove the patch on your cheek."

Minutes later, Remus was exiting the Hospital Wing. The school corridors were almost deserted, and he could hear at the distance the sound of people getting out their common rooms and calling each other.

After his transformations he usually was very hungry. This time it was worse, he had not eaten in almost two days. In the Great Hall there were just a bunch of older students sitting on the Gryffindor table, and he went to the opposite end of it.

He was starting with his second helping of porridge when a hard would-be friendly pat on his back almost made him yell.

"There you are!" Sirius said merrily.

"He… llo," he said, trying hard to look perfectly normal despite of the searing pain between his shoulders.

"What happened to your face?" James asked, sitting right in front of him.

"Fell of a tree," Remus rapidly answered. During his first ration of porridge he had finally come out with what he thought was a story plausible enough.

"What tree?" asked Peter, his eyes wide.

"Not here," Remus said, "at home. I… they told me my Mum was sick, so I went home to see her."

"That's why you sneaked out of the dormitory Sunday morning? I though you said you had headaches?" Peter asked again.

"Yeah… I" Remus decided he better ignored the second question. "Dumbledore told me I had to go. To see my Mum."

"I'm sorry she's ill," James said taking generous amounts of scrambled eggs.

"Yeah… thanks," Remus said, feeling guilty for having to say such an awful lie. He hastened in changing the subject. "How were classes?"

Sirius made an indistinguishable sound through his mouth, between bites of sausages.

"There is a lot you have to catch up with," Peter say.

"Really?"

"Nah!" Sirius had finally managed to swallow the lot. "Piece of cake."

"Yeah, mate, don't worry, we'll help you through it." James sounded reassuring.

Remus beamed. He would not know if it was the fact that he had been called 'mate' for the first time in his life, or the fact that they were willing to help him… or maybe just that they had actually noticed he had been away, but suddenly he felt the pain was not there anymore; it was being replaced by something warm filling his insides.

* * *

For the next full moon he prepared the field with some days of anticipation. He took advantage of an owl sent by his mother and started telling his friends she was not feeling quite all right and that he might be called upon her again.

On Monday afternoon he carefully said his goodbyes and parted the common room, feeling guilty for the messages of sympathy for her mum he had gotten from them.

When he woke at the Hospital Wing the next day, way past midday, his bed was surrounded with curtains. He did not need Madam Pomfrey to tell him why. A month after the beginning of term it was usual for students to go and seek help due to mishaps with spells and impromptu duels in the corridor. It had been raining the whole past week too, probably there were also students with regular diseases.

He was dozing off again when a set of voices he very well knew made him open his eyes wide.

"I swear I don't know what happened, Madam Pomfrey!" James was saying. "Sirius just… stopped talking."

"And that's absolutely unusual," Peter added.

Sound accompanied this sentence; it sounded a lot like the chirping of a canary.

"See?" James added, "that's the only sound he can do. It was sort of amusing at the beginning but now it's getting annoying."

There was more chirping and Remus could have sworn it was a very angry bird.

"Did you three were fighting?" she asked in a stern voice.

"No, not really…" trailed James.

Somebody was making strange gagging sounds that could be interpreted as negatives as well. Remus somehow suspected the real answer to Madam Pomfrey's question was yes. He was dying to open the curtains and see what had happened to Sirius. Had somebody transform him into a canary?

"You see," Peter was telling, "there is this boy."

"He's very mean," James added.

"He's a Slytherin."

"And he sort of jumped out of nowhere and Sirius here…"

"_Finite incantatum!_" said Madam Pomfrey.

Sirius coughed loudly a couple of times. Remus had to bite his fist to suppress a chortle.

"Thanks Ma'am, you're the best!" he said with his own voice, evidently relieved.

"You were saying…?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"They're right," Sirius jumped into the conversation, "it was an ambush, three blokes, very mean. They tried to jinx us and they got me."

"I thought you say it was only one…?"

Remus was now positively rocking with silent laughter. What on Earth had happened?

"Well…" James was explaining, "there was one at the beginning, and then the other two came out of nowhere…"

"And we-"

"You three get out of here and you better hope I won't find you duelling again or I'll leave that young man chirping for a week and see how he gets along."

"No please, it would drive us all crazy!" James prompted.

"You wouldn't…" Sirius started indignantly.

"Oh I would all right. Now, off you go."

The three of them left chatting merrily and Remus wished he could come along. There was no point though. He was still too weak to stand up, not to mention all the bandages he needed to remove before leaving the Hospital Wing.

Therefore, when the morning finally came, he was more than eager to leave. Curiosity was killing him and he was already tired of being forced to lie in bed. It had been rotten luck indeed to have missed what seemed to be Sirius first duel at school and he wanted to hear the real story. His head was throbbing though; apparently having dressed in such a rush had not been a wise idea.

"Lupin?"

He had barely closed the door behind his back when the voice of a girl at his back made him jump around.

"Oh! Er… hi, Evans."

"What were you doing in the Hospital Wing this early?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, "Are you ill?"

"No… not at all… it's just…"

"Where have you been yesterday? You missed Potions."

"I was at home… my mum was ill," he wondered how many times would he be forced to tell this lie. "And I've just come back… I wanted to take something… I have headaches, you see."

Maybe it had not been a good idea to say all this while looking at the floor. Lily Evans took a few steps a he could feel she was looking at him intently.

"You look ill," she said.

"No I'm not," he replied. "I'm just a bit tired. Why were you coming here anyway?"

It was Lily's turn to look down this time, her cheeks bright red.

"Severus wasn't there, was he?"

"Snape?" asked Remus.

She nodded.

"No, nobody was here. Only Madam Pomfrey. Why? Is he ill as well?"

Not that he really cared. He did not know Snape that well but he seemed to have become James and Sirius mortal enemy since that first day on the train. And by extension, that seemed to mean it might be his enemy as well. He did not really felt like having one at this point.

"He… got into a fight yesterday… with… with your lot!" now she was looking at him accusing.

"Sorry?" he said.

"Potter, and Black, and Pettigrew," she said, her voice both hard and loaded with contempt. "They attacked him and some other students from his house after Herbology and I haven't seen him since."

Remus had to fight an urge to laugh. Big blokes, eh? He was going to say to them he knew all about their 'attack', he was going to make fun of Sirius, he was…

He could not though. He could not tell them he had overheard their conversation in the Hospital Wing. It would have been very amusing to have the chance to mock them a bit about it, but there was no way to do it without revealing he had been at school this whole time.

"Well, he's not here so don't worry about him. His probably in his own common room, right?"

She gave him a long look. It was as if she was trying to decide something about him.

"Right," she finally said. "Are you going to have breakfast?"

"Sure, let's go."

* * *

**AN: Readers and reviewers are much appreciated!**

**Special thanks to Dimcairien, NeverBeenDarkMarked, LOGIN PASSWORD, Jael73, QueenCobraWing, Shnuffles, and AnnaBlack02. ********Thank you very much for the incredible support!**

******Cheers!**


	8. He had carried this invisible sign

_January 1972._

For more than half of his life he had carried this sort of invisible sign around him and he did not remember earlier better times. It could be said he was used to it by now. Still, Remus thought, giving his pillow a heavy punch, it did not make it any easier.

The soft sound of his fist on the fabric was like a thunder in the quiet dormitory.

He turned around to look at the closed draping on his bed and cocked his head a little, forcing to listen intently. Around him everything was silent except for the even sounds of people asleep, breathing steadily. Somebody, and he thought it was Sirius, was snoring softly.

He sighed heavily and sat up hugging his legs, his back resting on the headboard.

Tears were trailing down his cheeks and he wished, for the first time since he had arrived to Hogwarts, that his Mum would be nearby, that he could call her so she could tell him everything would be all right. Even though he knew that no matter how many times she would said that, the truth was it was rarely all right, he just knew that by now. And yet, he needed to her hear saying it again.

But as it was, he was alone, even inside a packed dormitory. In a little world called his four poster bed. Remus really liked his bed, probably the only private space he had on the entire school, except perhaps of the Whopping Willow and the Shrieking Shack but they, of course, did not count.

He looked at the red curtains again, and at the wooden structure above his head. The small enclosed space felt a lot like a refuge, and he felt it was just fitting. He needed to feel he was safe. He needed to feel there was a place in which things would not harm him, in which he would not harm things either.

_Inside his bedroom he could hear Joanna's voice coming from the kitchen. It had been a while since the last time he had seen her, so Remus jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the entrance._

_Joanna was Mum's friend from school, she used to come over from time to time for as long as he remembered. Most of the times both women would stay in the kitchen and chat away while drinking countless coups of tea; sometimes she would even play with him._

_There she was, leaning on the kitchen counter, talking nonstop with Mum, who seemed to be busy over a cauldron._

"_Hello, Joanna!" he called from the threshold._

_Joanna's head spun around so fast it cracked. She seemed startled._

"_Remus," she said, her big eyes looking even bigger._

_He wanted to approach her, but something was telling him it would be better not to. She was not leaning anymore, but standing straight, looking from him to Mum. She, on the other hand, had stop steering the cauldron and was looking at her friend frowning a little._

"_It is a surprise to see you here," she finally added._

_What an odd thing to say._

"_And why is that?" Mum had asked with a friendly tone, but it was clear to Remus, from the frown that was now much more visible, that it really meant bad news._

_Joanna blinked a couple of times, she seemed to be choosing what to say._

"_I'd thought… I thought he would be… I don't know, St. Mungos?"_

_That was odd too. Why would he be there if he was feeling all right at the moment?_

"_St. Mungos," Mum said slowly, "is for sick people."_

_Her friend smiled, but Remus could tell something was bothering her, a lot. There was this something in her eyes, looking at her Mum, and then at him, and then at the kitchen door._

"_Of course, I know, I was just…"_

_Her voice became a whisper and she did not talk anymore._

_She was gone shortly after and Remus had not seen her again in a very very long time._

It was strange that memory had came into his mind. Remus took the once hit pillow and hugged it, banging his head softly against the headboard. He was not crying anymore, but he felt empty on the inside. Hollow.

It had taken him some time to understand what had happened back there. He had been very little, of course, two or three full moons after… after the first one. First he had thought Joanna was angry with him. Only years later, reading a book in Dad's library, it all had came back and he realised what it had been that he had seen in Joanna's eyes. It had been fear. Fear at him.

He had realised then, that being a werewolf was not only about full moons. Of all the things he had learned about what he was, this had been probably one of the most difficult to understand. Why, if he was all right, and looking normal, and feeling normal, would people be still be afraid of him?

It was strange, why all these sad memories were coming to haunt him right now, that he needed to cheer up?

For a second he considered waking Sirius, James or Peter up, but he rejected the idea at once. They would surely get an idea to cheer him up. But it was impossible. How could he explain to them what was happening? It was bad enough with them all making guesses about the reasons why Professor Barkwith was horrible to him.

_When the bell of the door ran, he was already hidden in the hallway. He wanted to take a glipse at the visitor his parents had been expecting for so long. The door open and outside was a very strange looking woman, tall, with a mate of yellowish gray hair escaping a strange looking hat, smoking out of a crooked pipe something green that reeked of burning socks. Mum and dad seemed to tolerate it, even though they did not smoke._

"_Let's go see it, then?" the old witch had said, without as much as a "hello"._

_His parents exchanged worried looks but started walking._

_Remus had only a split second to rush into his bedroom where he had been told he should stay. Trying to look casual, he jumped into his bed and opened a book._

_He knew who this lady was, of course. Or, to be accurate, what she was doing here. She was not the first of a long line of funny looking people that had come to see him, promising cures or things that could make him feel better during that time. He was not that eager to see another one._

_A moment later, his mum opened the door._

"_Remus," she said quietly. "This woman here is a friend of us; she is going to help you."_

_He looked at her and at the old witch standing behind. Her mum was also looking at her and seemed nervous. He wanted to protest, to ask his Mum if she really, truly believed that all those funny things they had made him drink would actually do something, but he did not dare, with the strange woman looking at him._

"_Let's get started then," she said, and without as much of a warning, she flickered her wand._

_Rope emerged from it, like snakes, and it twisted around Remus' feet and wrists, tying him to bed._

"_What are you doing?" _

_Dad's instant cry drowned both his and his mother's voice._

"_Release him at once!"_

"_Mr. Lupin, please," the witch was speaking loudly as well, "do you want me to cure it or not?"_

"_Remove those things from my son immediately." _

_Dad's wand was raised, pointing at the unknown woman. Remus had never seen him this angry before and, for an instant, he did not know who was more scary, him or that witch._

_She finally decided she had to obey, and with the same wave of the wand the ropes were gone. And she was gone too, an instant after._

It had not been quick enough too. Remus had seen that fear for the second time. And something else, something perhaps much more disturbing.

Some fears make people go away. Joanna was one, and he was sure there had been other friends from his parents that did not come back to their house again. And there was this other type of fear, the type that would scare you and make you do terrible things to defend yourself. That had been the fear he had seen in that strange witch those years ago.

And there was of course that third type he had barely begun to know.

The one that looked a lot like indifference. People would not go away, at least, not at once. But they would not get any nearer either. Those were the remaining friends of his parents, and he could see them trying their best not to show, but that look of fear was there, just as clear as the others. They were making an effort, just like Professor Slughorn, for instance. Seeing them try was perhaps more painful than seeing them go away.

They had that look too. Remus knew that there must be a way for him to show them there was nothing to fear about. But how?

Of course the teachers knew what he was. Dumbledore had told him he was not going to hide that from them. And, surprisingly enough, most of them had been just… all right with it. And that had been brilliant!

Professor Slughorn seemed to have tried his best, and yet he was not that bad, not really. Maybe if he, Remus, would not be such a mess on potion brewing, things could go better with him.

Professor Barkwith was something else entirely. His fear was the second sort. He was scared and he wanted to hurt Remus… before Remus get to hurt him? Remus looked at his hands, hugging the pillow, they were little... did they really turned into wolf paws once a month? Of course he knew they did but sometimes, sometimes it was difficult to imagine. And yet, he, Remus, could he possible hurt people?

That was a ridiculous idea! And yet, people had ridiculous ideas really frequently.

He had felt it, though, since the first day when he called everybody in the list by their names. He had lingered a little before calling his name and then, his eyes had looked at him for the tiniest of seconds. It had been enough though, to feel that fright and the rejection that used to come along.

Professor Barkwith had taken less than no time to ask Remus difficult questions, and yet Remus seemed to have managed to answer almost all of them. Defending against the Dark Arts was a second nature of sorts for him, so he had read everything he could get his hands onto. How could it be otherwise, if he had to fight himself as something dark as well, once a month?

But finally he had had to fail one, and he had gotten detention. His first week here, his first detention.

Maybe it was because Professor Barkwith studied the Dark Arts and knew, really knew, what Remus was and what he could do. Still, if that was the case, he should know everything and how he was perfectly harmless most of the time. Maybe the other werewolves out there were not as harmless as he was. How could he know? Remus had not met any other werewolf in his life.

With weeks the situation had grown evident to the rest of the students. Unlike Remus, though, they did not seem to know what was behind that dislike. And better that way, Remus was sure of that. He did not need to see more fear around him.

Some fourth year had heard them speak about Professor Barkwith on the common room some nights ago. He had been nice enough to tell them he would not be there much longer.

"What do you mean?" James had asked for the four of them.

"That post is jinxed, so they say," the fourth year had said smugly. "No teacher lasts more than one year."

Remus really wished he was right.


	9. How thick do you think we are?

_April 3rd 1972_

"I wonder, Remus, how thick do you think we are?"

James question was followed by a heavy silence. They had been sitting under a tree near the lake, enjoying the first rays of sun of the season and catching up on what everybody had done during the Easter Holidays. Sirius and Peter had been discussing Quidditch right when James had spoken out of the blue.

"Huh?" Remus asked, blankly.

"It's sort of insulting, you know?" James was carrying on, conversationally.

Remus turned to see if the other two knew what this was all about. Peter was staring at the grass surrounding him, as if he intended to count every blade. Sirius was looking at both of them intently.

"No, I don't know," Remus said slowly.

Easter Holidays had been entirely too short and yet Remus was bursting with excitement at the perspective of going back to school. It had been great that his transformation had been right in the middle of the Holidays too. In other circumstances he would not have liked that free time to be interrupted by the full moon but now he was glad it would be one month less in which he would have to lie to everybody about where he had been.

His last transformation at school had been the worse, not because of the transformation, but because of the flow of questions he had had to answer afterwards. James, Sirius and Peter seemed to not want to give it a rest, asking nonstop about his latest wounds and about his mother's health. Remus much feared they were growing suspicious.

And now… was it possible that James had figured it out. How? No, it had to be something else entirely.

"You see, mate," Sirius spoke in a very unusual calm voice, "James has a point there. We're not stupid… well, most of the time."

Peter gave a small chortle but no one paid attention to him.

"It… it would be better," Remus' voice was hoarse and he had to make an extra effort for it not to shake, "if you'd tell me exactly what are you talking about?"

But he knew. _They_ knew. But no, it could not be. How on earth would they still be there if they knew what he really was?

James sighed.

"How's your mum?"

"Good," he answered, "better."

"Aha," Sirius said.

"Right," James agreed.

They looked at each other as if Remus' answer had been exactly what they had expected to hear him say. Still, none of them seemed convinced.

"We know, Remus," Peter said in an almost inaudible whisper.

"What do you know?" his voice was not shaky anymore.

A calm fear was taking over him and, for some strange reason, it felt a lot like fury.

James leaned forward; his face was mere centimetre from Remus'.

"You're a werewolf," he whispered, his bright eyes never leaving his.

It was as if the blood inside his veins had frozen, as if thousands of invisible fists were hitting him from all directions, and yet, he had to remain calm, he just had to convince them he was not… too bad he had no idea how should he do that.

"I'm not," he said, but his voice was shaky.

"Here we go," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"See?" James told him, "he thinks we're thick!"

"I don't think you're-"

"Listen," Sirius said, bending over as well, with a voice barely audible. "First," he raised his right hand index, "your scars. We don't know anybody so prone to accidents and funnily enough, they all happen only when you're away."

"But it's just-"

"Second," Sirius interrupted, raising another finger in front of his eyes, "you're always sort of ill at the same time every month. You look thin, you have headaches, you don't sleep well…"

"And third," James cut in, "funnily enough it all happens right before you get mysteriously summoned to your mum's…"

"Because she's ill!" Remus protested, even though he knew there would be no convincing them.

James and Sirius rolled their eyes. They seemed to have done their homework thoroughly.

The only question remained, why were they still there? Would not they want to go away from him?

"Yeah, right," Sirius spoke, "she's ill only when there's a full moon. Either she had lycanthropy or you have. And since it would not make any sense for you to go there if she was the… the sick one, the only possible explanation is this: you are a werewolf."

For the first time Peter looked up at them and Remus could see fear in his eyes. And still he had the strange impression he was not scare of his being a werewolf but mere of the event that might follow Sirius' statement.

Remus lowered his head. Nobody said anything for a long moment. What should he do now?

It was obvious.

With a swift movement, he stood up and before any of them could stop him, he was running up the slope towards the castle, tears burning into his eyes. He heard voices, but he could not distinguish what they were saying; the only thing he could do was hope they were not screaming "werewolf" and pointing at him for the whole school to know.

Suddenly something heavy got caught of his ankles and he felt face down to earth.

"What are you doing?" Sirius said angrily, but not letting go of his legs.

He had tackled him from behind. Where they going to hit him? Remus had never been in a fight before and wondered how it would be to have to defend himself from three people at the same time.

"Don't let him go," James voice came.

"I got it!" Sirius announced. "He's not going anywhere."

Remus started moving, trying his best to free himself from his grip but he was not yielding. A second later James was at his side.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked Remus, while Peter, slightly breathless, caught up with them.

"Let me go!" Remus said, still trying to free himself from Sirius' grip.

"Won't!"

"Hey!" he roared. He did not know where it was coming from, but there was this cold fury burning him from the inside. James and Peter stood still, looking down at him, while Sirius' grip receded somewhat. Remus lowered his voice to an almost inaudible whisper.

"So, you know," his voice was trembling but the tears were gone. "Now let me go. I won't be in your way, so you stay away from mine."

Sirius and James exchanged a confused look.

"What are you talking about, mate?" the latter asked.

"We don't want you to go," Sirius said.

"You know," James said, "he's the thick one."

Peter nodded.

Remus looked at them, puzzled. He was searching for that look, that finny light in their eyes, that fear he had learn to identify. There was none. And just as suddenly as it had come, his fury was gone.

James crouched at his side and for an instant Remus thought he was going to hit him. He flinched.

"We don't want you to go," he said simply. "Why would we? I mean, it's not as if you'll transform and bite us in the middle of the night, right? You go… away, wherever it is… don't you?"

Remus nodded.

"Listen, mate," Sirius spoke, finally letting go of his legs, "we don't care."

"You don't…?" he sat up, levelling with James and Sirius.

"Why should we? I think it's kinda cool."

"Yeah right."

That must be a lie if there ever had been one. How could anybody think lycanthropy was _cool_?

"Sirius-ly. I mean, how many people can honestly say they have a werewolf as a friend?"

Remus thought for an instant.

"The question is," he said slowly, "how many people would honestly _want_ to have a werewolf as a friend."

James gave him a pat on the back of his head.

"At least three I know of."

Remus was positively gawping now.

"Why didn't you tell us before, though?" Peter asked.

He looked at them for a long moment. All the emotions he had recently had, fear, anger, sadness, were being replaced by that very same warm thing filling his insides.

"Never mind that," James spoke, "now tell us, how does it feel?"

* * *

He had never been in the Headmaster's office before and he had to ask several portraits for directions before finding the right place. A gargoyle was blocking the entrance; Remus did not have a password, but he guessed he could wait there, in the hallway, until Professor Dumbledore showed up. Either in or out, he would have to cross that gargoyle eventually.

It did not take that long though, before the gargoyle moved and Professor MacGonagall came out and revolving spiral staircase.

"Lupin, what are you doing here?"

"I… I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore, Professor."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, it's just… it won't take long."

She moved to her side, leaving the pass free.

"Off you go, then,"

After climbing a set of moving spiral stairs, he found a heavy wooden door.

"Come in," a voice inside spoke before he could even knock.

The Headmaster was sitting behind a large table, with several rolls of parchment opened in front of him. The walls were covered with portraits of sever looking wizards and witches. There were so many objects perched on small tables and on shelves Remus wished he would have some time to check it all around.

"Remus, how do you do?"

He had to focus on Professor Dumbledore; it was a difficult feature.

"I'm fine sir."

"Did you need to tell me something?"

Remus did not know how to start. They had agreed he would not tell anybody about his condition, but nothing had been said about others finding out from themselves. He was not sure if he had done wrong.

"I…" he cleared his throat. "It was not my fault, Sir, I think. Or maybe, I should have lied better. Anyway, I don't know how I could prevent this…"

Professor Dumbledore was looking at him calmly, his eyebrows raised.

"My friends found out what I am," Remus finally said with a loud sigh.

"Did they, now?"

"Yeah… you know… James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. We… we get along very well, and they noticed how I'm always away in a full moon. Today they told me they know I'm a werewolf. I tried to convince them I'm not, but they had watched me a lot and they… I think they did some research because they told me I had all the symptoms."

The Headmaster was looking at him intently, as if he could read inside his mind.

"I don't think they'll tell anybody… They told me they wouldn't. But still," Remus squared his shoulders. "I don't know, Sir. Maybe… maybe this is a mistake. What if somebody else finds out?"

The headmaster was now frowning slightly.

"What was your friends' reaction after finding out? Did they run away from you?"

Remus smiled slightly.

"Not really, Professor. I was the one who ran away actually."

"I see."

"I didn't want to be there if they did not want me to."

Professor Dumbledore leaned forward a little.

"And do they want you to leave?"

Remus' smile broadened.

"No, Sir, they don't."

The Headmaster leaned back again.

"I don't know why," Remus continued. "I've met plenty of people who wanted to heal me, and who approached me but… they all looked disgusted, or afraid, you see? Relieved when they had to go. I'm sort of used to that. Why haven't James and the others?"

"Funny think friendship," Professor Dumbledore spoke calmly. "People doesn't seem to realise how rare it is and what a treasure true friends are. No, Remus, I don't think you are in danger of more people finding out. That is, if you continue to be careful."

He nodded but did not say a thing.

"Take care of them, Remus,"

"I'm not going to hurt them."

"That's not what I meant," the Headmaster said smiling. "I know you wouldn't. What I am saying is, you ought to take care of that friendship. You are a lucky person."

Remus stared at him for a long moment. Who on earth would possibly think that a werewolf was a lucky person?

"They have looked beyond the fur or the claws," the old man continued. "You should do the same. You should learn to look pass your own problems."

He had no idea how to respond to this and both stayed silent for a while.

"I think you should go back to your Common Room."

"Yes, Sir."

Remus had the feeling Professor Dumbledore had said something really important he had not been able to understand. Would he ever? Still, it could not be that important. There were three people down there, people his own age, who knew exactly what he was and were not afraid of it. He wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as possible.


	10. Oh, it's you lot

**AN: NEW! I've added a new chapter, which is now chapter 8. Enjoy!**

* * *

_September 13__th__ 1973_

"Oh, it's you lot."

Remus opened his eyes. Madam Pomfrey's briskly voice was carrying from the other side of the curtain surrounding his bed. He was almost sorry he had woken up until he heard another voice.

"This is urgent Ma'am," Sirius was saying, trying to sound solemn, a feature in which he failed miserably.

"It is a matter of the utmost importance," James was cutting it. His tone was not convincing either.

Still, what was it so important for them to go to the Hospital Wing? It could not be because of him, that was for sure.

They had agreed at the end of his first year that they would not go to pay him any visits while he was recovering from the full moon. His argument had been that it would be suspicious for anybody to see the three of them, without him, Remus, entering there once a month.

There was another much more powerful reason, but he had not shared it with them: he did not want James, Sirius and Peter to see him scarred and frail. He did not want them to pity him, just as much as he did not want him to fear him. The wounds by him inflicted could do both.

"We need to see Remus," Peter almost whispered.

So they were there so tee him, in fact. That was beyond odd. Something grave must have happened, but what?

"He's resting right now, as you very well know," Madam Pomfrey was saying. "Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"

"It can't," James said urgently, "it's very important homework, he needs to know about."

"But…"

"I'm awake, Madam Pomfrey," Remus called.

Even though he could not see it, he could clearly picture the matron's disgruntled expression, but his curiosity was wining over. Besides, he would have gone to his dormitory later that evening, what harm could it do to be distracted a couple of hours earlier?

"Please?" Sirius and James were saying.

"All right then," Madam Pomfrey seemed to be struggling with mixed feelings.

Remus felt steps coming closer and somebody yanked his curtains open.

It was a very strange sight to see them in there, but more so the fact that the three of them were carrying heavy books and looking both smug and excited.

"What's-?"

"Homework," said James pointedly, his eyebrows bouncing up and down behind his spectacles.

"Homework? Couldn't it wait-?"

"Not at all," Sirius looked so scandalised it was absolutely unbelievable.

The matron seemed to have bought it though, for she entered her office.

"You have 5 minutes," she cried over her shoulder before shutting the door close.

"Will do, Ma'am," Sirius called back.

No sound came from the office.

Remus looked at it for a moment, and then at his three friends.

"What's happening…? This is not really about homework, is it?" he asked, frowning a little.

"We've got it!" Sirius whispered.

"It's brilliant!" Peter said.

"It's going to be grand!" James added.

Remus shook his head slowly. If they were coming all the way to tell him about the ultimate prank against the Slytherins he might ask Madam Pomfrey not to let them in again. Excited as he was to see them, he was also tired, and sore.

"What's going to be grand exactly?" he asked still unconvinced.

Sirius bowed his head; he was now at mere inches from him.

"We've figured out the way to be with you while you're… you know… hairy."

He dropped his voice so much it was almost impossible for Remus to hear the last part.

"You what?" he whispered back.

"During the full moon!" James whispered excitedly. "We've figured out a way to keep you company!"

Remus stared at his three friends. They all looked extremely pleased with themselves, bright-eyed and almost bouncing.

This was all wrong though.

"Next time you want to pull my wand try something more creative," he muttered, rolling into his side and giving them his back. "And more amusing too, mind you."

"Oi!" Sirius cried indignantly.

Remus shut his eyes but the gesture did not prevent him of hearing three pairs of steps sprinting around his bed.

"We're not pulling your wand, mate," James' voice was near him again.

Remus opened his eyes and it was no surprise to see the tree of them leaning over this other side of his bed again. He groaned audibly.

"This is Sirius," Sirius said.

"Old joke, mate," James told him.

"It never gets old to me," Sirius replied.

"We are serious, Remus, really," Peter said. "It's a great plan!"

Remus groaned again and put his hand over his eyes. He was too tired for this sort of nonsense but he figured out he would have to listen to it if he wanted to get rid of them for the time being in order to get some sleep.

"All right," he sat up straighter, "just for the sake of the argument, let's pretend I'm taking you seriously… no, Sirius, no pun intended."

Sirius closed his mouth.

"The thing is," James started before any of the others could add something, "D'you remember last week's Transfiguration class?"

"Which one?"

"The first one."

James sat on the side of his bed, the movement in the mattress made his side hurt. He had had two broken ribs this time, which were just healing. He suddenly saw a point in Madam Pomfrey's regular policy of no visitors.

"Yeah, I remember," Remus said through clenched teeth, trying not to show his pain.

"Remember old Minnie morphing in front of us?" Sirius prompted.

"Don't call her old Minnie, it's just too disturbing," James said as if talking to a toddler.

"Can't help it-"

"I remember," Remus cut across the banter, "she turned into a cat."

"Exactly!" James said, as if he had proven the most difficult of points.

Remus frowned again.

"It's a werewolf I turn into," he said, after looking around a lowering his voice even further for good measure, "not a cat."

"We're not talking about you, it's us!" Sirius said.

"We're gonna transform, see?" Peter added.

"No, I don't see," Remus was starting to panic.

They all looked so confident and yet so full of ideas that were starting to sound really crazy, he was starting to feel something dreadful was speeding their direction.

"We are going to become Animagi," James said, trying to make it sound as if he was talking about having treacle tart later.

"Werewolves are not dangerous to animals," Peter said, tapping one of the books he was carrying.

Remus looked at the books more carefully. He had first thought they had carried them into the Hospital Wing just to convince Madam Pomfrey they were actually going to talk about homework, but on closer inspection he realised some of them had the word "Animagus" in their titles.

Except the one Peter was carrying. It had no title at all.

"This one is about… well, werewolves," James explained, following Remus' gaze. "It says all that you need to know about them."

"I don't need to know anymore about them, thank you very much," Remus said with dignity.

"Remus, stop being so stupid, you're making it all more difficult to explain!" Sirius said. "These are not for you, but for us! We're gonna learn how to become Animagi in order to be with you on full moons."

And finally he understood. And even more, he realised they were absolutely serious.

"I gave you five minutes, it's been ten, off you go then!" Madam Pomfrey took them all out of their reveries.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow," Sirius said with a wink.

"Here, read this," James added, putting one of the books he was carrying on his bedside table.

And the three of them left, leaving Remus gawping at the closed door of the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Well, they could not be serious. And even if they were, they could not get through with it. The longer he thought about it the most convinced he was.

Madam Pomfrey had decided he should stay one extra night at the Hospital Wing and for once he had not protested. If she had found this attitude odd, she had refrained to say so. Remus was glad for he needed the extra time to think. He needed a bunch of solid well-thought arguments in order to take that stupid, stupid idea out of James', Sirius' and Peter's heads.

Turning painfully on the tall white-lined bed he tried to remember every single fact Professor MacGonagall had told them about Animagus. That they were illegal if unregistered, was the first idea he thought of. And of course, who on his right mind would want to register three underage untrained wizards as Animagus? Unless… and Remus much feared this was the case, they were planning on doing without anybody knowing it. Which just made it all even worse, because that meant they were planning on breaking Wizarding Law as well as a handful school rules.

Not to mention it was bound to be one heck of a piece of magic they would have to do. If there were so few Animagus in the Wizarding World there must be a reason for it and MacGonagall had told them exactly what reason it was: it was terribly difficult to do and extremely dangerous if it went wrong. It could even cause death.

So no, they could not do it.

He could not let them do it.

It was absolutely out of the question.

And yet…

James and Sirius were very cleaver and teachers had fail yet to come up with a spell or charm they could not do on their first try. Why would it be different with becoming Animagus. And they could help Peter of course, in case he could not do it on his own.

But no! One thing was to turn a spoon into a cup; that sort of Transfiguration was something far beyond any average wizard's level!

And what if they succeeded?

The though cut across Remus' reasons and for a moment he let his brain imagine the possible outcome. He transforming, three shapes near his wolfish self, three huge powerful animals he would not harm. And that would distract him and prevent him from inflicting harm to himself. Because they could do that, couldn't they?

He remembered very little about his transformations; sometimes there were nightmares full of pain, blood and hatred; sometimes just violent images popping into his inner eye from time to time. What if those were replaced by the image of three peaceful creatures just keeping him company?

What if was never to see those horrible images? What if by doing that the nightmares would stop altogether?

Remus reached for his wand.

"_Lumos_!" he whispered, thankful that this time he was the only occupant of the Hospital Wing.

He grabbed the book James had left on his bedside table and holding his wand with his teeth, Remus opened the old volume. Some pages were marked with little pieces of blue parchment. He recognised James handwriting on them, they seemed to have read most of the book.

It had little images in it; but plenty of explanations. There was far more about it that what MacGonagall had said them in class. The first thing that got his attention was that becoming an Animagus was not just doing some spell work or muttering an incantation. It was a long, difficult process that could take much time.

"The Wizard or Witch attempting to become an Animagus," Remus read, "would need to find his inner nature, which would manifest itself afterwards in the form of a particular animal. It takes great amounts of self-control and a thorough voyage inside one's own conscious in order to find that particular trait that one is willing to carry along during the transformation process.

"This one personal trait is most important, for it will be the only link between the wizard's or the witch's animal form with his or hers human self. Shall this part not be performed correctly, the process will certainly fail and the person would find him- or herself trapped in the in-between, no longer human but not even an animal."

Remus took the small piece of blue parchment perched on that precise page.

"Learn about ourselves," James had scribbled.

"We're geniuses!" Sirius had seemed to think was worthwhile to add.

Remus chuckled and then he felt some strange feeling grow inside him.

So they knew, they had realised it was terribly difficult and it could take much time, and yet… and yet they were willing to do it.

He grabbed the little piece of blue parchment between his index and his thumb and looked at it closely at wand light.

He could imagine the scene. The three of them, his noses buried in books, some of them they might have had to smuggle out of the restricted section using the Invisibility Cloak from James' father. James and Sirius would discuss the matter and Peter would try to feebly object, maybe scared a little, but a heartbeat later he would support they every idea and even produce some of his own. They would discuss possibilities and calculate timings… and eagerly wait for the full moon to pass in order to rush into the Hospital Wing and tell him…

Remus' heart seemed to be swelling, and at the same time dread was overcoming him.

What if something went wrong? What if he hurt one of them?

It would be his, Remus' fault.

But then… they were so eager to do it. They were researching it, they were talented, all of them could do it.

And he… he was alone. And he should not be. Not always. Because it was unfair and it seemed that there was a way after all, not a cure to his lycanthropy, not a strange potion or an incantation. It was just changing his situation a little bit; trying to make it slightly less awful.

He could not recall if he had slept at all. As soon as the morning light entered the large windows he stood up, took out his bandages and put his school robes on. In no time at all he was entering the Great Hall.

The three of them were there, even if it was really early. They had been waiting for him, it was plain.

"All right," Remus said, looking at each pair of eyes. "Let's do it."


	11. What father in his right mind?

_December 1973_

_What father is his right mind would give James an invisibility cloak?_

It was not the first time Remus though along those lines, but somehow he always forgot to ask him how he had got it. It was the most brilliant device there was, though. Especially considering how prone they all were to night wanderings. And yes it was forbidden. And yes they were out of bounds. And yes if they were to be found by Mr. Filch they would probably end in the dungeons doing all sorts of nasty things as a punishment.

"But, you know," James had said one day when they had talked about this, "it's the risk that makes it fun!"

Remus had shaken his head feebly, but Sirius' and Peter's enthusiasm had been too exuberant and his gesture had gone unnoticed.

And, if he was to be honest, he really, really enjoyed this sort of night excursions up and down the castle.

Except tonight… they were not wandering the castle, they were outside. And this was not aimless strolling; they had a clear direction on their mind.

Carefully trying not to trip, while being squeezed together under the Cloak, the four of them were walking towards the Whipping Willow. Remus could not make up his mind if this was the best or worse idea of all times. It did not help the fact that it had been his idea to come here in the first place.

They were at it now, the time for second thoughts had passed when they had crossed the front doors of the castle. They passed Hagrid's hut, trying hard not to make any sound at all as to awake him, and right into the limits of the Forbidden Forest, surrounding it.

"Stop right here," Remus whispered, "don't get any nearer."

The Whopping Willow was waving its branches lazily. It could almost be mistaken for the regular movements any tree would make when a soft wind blew. A bat flew nearby and then, there was not a thing lazy about the tree, when it heaved a large thick branch and hit the bat squarely. At the rear of the group, Peter whimpered softly.

After more than two years doing this every month, more than one on his own, Remus knew the routine by heart.

He crouched and went outside the protection of the Invisibility Cloak; he did not want to hit any of his friends with the spell, that would certainly be a giveaway. He approached to the tree even further and reached the spot he knew was the limit of the branches. Carefully he raised his wand and pointed it to a nearby fallen branch.

"_Wingardium leviosa_!"

The branch soared low over the grass, and pointing his wand at it, Remus made it touch the knot at the bottom of the trunk. The branches stood perfectly still, just as if the wind had gone.

"Brilliant!" Remus heard somebody whispering from behind him.

He turned around to the place he hoped the other three were, hidden under the Cloak, and directed them to crouch beside him. If earlier there had not been a chance to have second thoughts about this, now it was just unthinkable.

And yet, Remus was worried. Was he doing the right thing?

He saw his three friends emerge, almost levelled with the grass, crawling until they reached him. James folded the Cloak haphazardly and tucked it into a rucksack he was carrying. They were ready. With a deep breath, Remus started moving towards the whole near the high roots of the tree; he could hear the others doing the same, ever so quietly.

Inside he went, down the dark tunnel, and gave a couple of steps to make room for the others.

At the dim light coming from the clear night outside, he could see their awed expressions when taking in the tunnel and the cleaver elaboration behind it all. Suddenly all his fears were nothing but a past memory; he was elated at their faces, proud that it was being him the one making his friends smile like that.

"_Lumos_!" he whispered, and the tip of his wand ignited, casting strange shadows down the corridor.

"This is grand!"James whispered as well.

"Come on, then," Remus called, and they all followed his lead, bending over a bit to avoid colliding with the ceiling.

"So we could actually walk into Hogsmeade even when it's not a Hogsmeade weekend?" Sirius was asking.

"Yeah," James said and even though Remus could not see him, he was certain his friend was smiling broadly. "We could get some Butterbeer."

"And chocolate, from Honeydukes," Peter added.

"I don't think so," Remus started speaking slowly. "The Shrieking Shack has a lot of spells on it, to prevent people to get too near. And also to… to prevent somebody to get out."

The other three remained silent and Remus felt he needed to add something in order to erase the image of a werewolf strolling down Hogsmeade, which had certainly formed in their minds.

"I reckon this passageway is the only way in or out of the house."

"But what if there are other passages," Sirius spoke again, and Remus was relieved there was no fear or disgust in his voice. Perhaps only a little disappointment.

"Yeah, I reckon you're right," Peter said.

"Dunno," Remus said, "it could be, right?"

"We should definitely find out!"

They were near, Remus could tell. The pathway was just beginning to rise, showing they were near their destination, when he realised, with a jolt in his stomach, he had forgotten something.

Of course, the Shrieking Shack was the best place for them to practice how to become Animagi without anybody knowing it. There was not only that. Some part of it also wanted to share this place with his friends, to show them… but now he had realised…

To show them what, exactly?

The marks of his own claws in the torn apart furniture? His teeth on some of the once smooth surfaces of the wood? The blood, his own blood, rusty dried spots on the floor and the walls? How on earth was he supposed to hide all that from them? Now, so near the entrance of the house it was impossible, and he wished he had think of it all before making the suggestion to come here in the first place.

"What's next?" Sirius asked from behind.

Remus looked at them. He could not do it, there was no way he would show them the havoc he caused while being a werewolf. Because one thing was to read about it, or to imagine it. Being faced with the reality of it all was something entirely different. He tried to picture how he would react, if he was in their places, but he could not. He was too used to it all now.

"Hey, Remus, shall we then?"

He shook his head. Maybe this was for the better. Maybe they would realise now what they would have realised anyway: that he was dangerous and that, although very nice, their idea of becoming Animagi was terribly risky. Even if they chose to go with their plan, it was just fair to show them what it really was to be what he was. What they would be facing if they succeeded.

"Yeah, this way," he finally said hoarsely.

The tramp was closed and he pushed it softly, realising his hands were shaking.

Maybe this was not only about them knowing what being a werewolf was like, in order to decide if they would like to become Animagi or not. When the wooden tramp hit the floor, Remus realised he was about to prove, once more, if they still wanted to be his friends.

Sighing deeply, he jumped outside and walked a few steps into the room. He knew what he was about to see, but knowing did not make it any less impressive. One chair was tumbled over; two of its legs were broken. What used to be a carpet was now a mess of coloured wood, stripped and dirty. At the soft light of his wand, every tiny angle of the room seemed to glow and make all the destruction even more evident.

"What the-?" James muttered, pacing the room.

Sirius was giving Peter a hand to climb out. He turned around and let out a low whistle.

"Is this the Shrieking Shack?" Peter asked.

"Oh no, Peter, this is a Gringotts vault," Sirius said with a sneer.

Remus looked at them all, trying to find in their expression that look that would tell him he had shown them too much.

James had already walked out the room into the hall.

"It doesn't look this big from the outside," he commented. "What's upstairs?"

Before Remus could answer, he started climbing up the stairs. Sirius followed but Peter stay there, looking out the window between the creeks of the boards covering it.

"Do you come here on your own?" he finally asked.

Remus could hear the voices of the other two upstairs and was torn between staying with Peter and joining them.

"Yeah," he said. "First Madam Pomfrey would come with me, but since second year I've been doing on my own."

Peter nodded.

Without another word, he went out the room as well and started to climb the stairs. For an instant he wished the floorboards would not crack, so he could sneak in and eavesdrop on what James and Sirius were saying.

"I think it's blood, mate."

"There's a lot."

The last floorboard cracked louder and both of them went quiet.

"Wait for me," came Peter's voice from down the stair almost at the same time.

James and Sirius emerged from one of the rooms.

"D'you know what?" the later said. "I think this place will work just fine."

Remus shook his head.

"I don't think we… that's to say, you should do it."

Sirius, James and Peter looked at him in disbelieve.

"What?"

"Whatever makes you think that?"

"We thought this was already settled!"

It was more difficult than what he had expected it to be, and yet, he had to do it, he had to be responsible.

"Listen to me, listen!" he cried over the protests of his friends. They went quiet, but he could see they would interrupt him at the first chance they would get. "Look around! Do you see it?" his voice was still loud, and he felt as if something had exploded inside him. "All this havoc, the furniture, the walls, all those marks, and bites, all the destruction, it was me all right? Because it is not fun, it is not easy, it's… it's painful, and dangerous, and what if I hurt any of you?"

"Remus you-"

"Don't you realise?" he stomp his foot on the floor impatiently. "This is what a werewolf does, it destroys and hurts and bites. And yes, Sirius, those stains are blood, my blood. I hurt myself when I'm transformed! But that's all right; it's supposed to be me. What if it was one of you?"

He was panting, his voice had died out and he could feel his eyes burn with tears he was not going to shed.

He could not look at the other three, so he concentrated on the dusty patch in front of his shoes. Suddenly another pair of shoes occupied that patch and a hand tapped his back awkwardly.

"We don't care, mate," Sirius said. "We know there's the risk but we're willing to take it. Because it's not fair for you and we are positive we can make it better."

Remus finally looked up.

"But what if something happens?" he whispered.

"Have a little faith in us, Remus," James spoke from behind. "We'll make sure nothing happens."

With a slow movement he took the rucksack out his shoulders. Looking first at Remus, and then at Peter and Sirius, James opened it and took a large book from it.

"Shall we begin then?"

* * *

**AN: This chapter is dedicated to Star Ash Myst [actually I'm quoting her with the title and the first line], thank you so much for all your support!**

**Also deep thanks to NeverBeenDarkMarked, Shnuffles, AnnaBlack02, Nikeroxx, login password, QueenCobraWing, books and candy, Blonde K and Dimcairien. Thanks a heap for those generous reviews!**

**Cheers!**


	12. It was with great difficulty

_Early July, 1975._

It was with great difficulty that Remus was keeping himself from bouncing up and down in excitement. He wished he had something to do other than stare out of the window and count the remaining minutes.

Any time now.

He fished into the back pocket of his jeans and for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and he unfolded the very creased piece of parchment. James' and Sirius' handwritings were spread all over the small square.

_Dear Moony_

_**Moony! Great nickname! Haha, get it?**_

_Of course he gets it, Sirius, don't be stupid. Anyway, Remus, is it all right if we call you Moony? No that's not what we wanted to ask. Is it all right if we drop by your place tomorrow?_

_**We have something to tell you!**_

_To show you, actually._

_**And it's grand!**_

_Definitely._

_**So, 'round 4, what do you say?**_

_Send us confirmation if it's ok._

_**And your address.**_

_Obviously._

'_**Till tomorrow, then.**_

_Yeah!_

_**We're finished, James, why do we keep writing?**_

_Dunno, mate. Bugger off!_

_**Puddlemere United!**_

_Pathetic__._

_**You are pathetic!**_

The letter finished with one large stain of navy blue ink. Apparently James and Sirius had figured out a more direct way to keep discussing their Quidditch preferences. The image of it was enough to make Remus beam.

None of his friends had ever been in his house. As a matter of fact, this was the first time in his life he was going to get real visitors; the funny people that used to come to try and "fix" him did not count. Nothing had been fun around them and none of them had been his age anyway.

He looked at the clock pending on his rooms' wall. Ten past four. How much longer did he have to wait?

Just to give himself something to do, he walked into the kitchen. His mother had been almost as pleased as him when he had told her, trying to sound casual as if this happened every day, that "a couple of friends" would come over. Now she was taking out of the over a tray full of Remus' favourite biscuits.

"How long do you think-?"

The rest of Remus' question was drowned by a loud sound of breaks right outside the house. He sprinted forward and jerked the door open. Just as he had thought, James and Sirius were climbing down a three-story bright purple bus, which disappeared the minute after into the nearby woods.

"Hey there!" he called them.

James beamed at him and Sirius, apparently, tried to do the same, except he was looking a tad green.

"Maniac this thing," he finally muttered.

"What's up mate?" James was asking Remus.

"Same as usual, what's up with you? How come you decided to come?"

"You wait and see, it's… grand! Still, I think it would be better if Sirius gained a tad of colour before showing you."

"Come on in. Let's grab a bite," Remus said, showing them inside. "Have you heard something from Peter?"

"He's abroad," James said, "he's not keeping in touch."

Sirius just nodded a bit.

They entered into the kitchen. Remus was pleased to see his mother this happy. He did not need to think hard to figure out the reasons behind it. She just loved looking at him being "normal"; with this sort of company, Remus could almost believe he was.

Half an hour later they had left the Lupin's house, and had walked a little into the woods. Remus was intrigued and a little nervous, but his friends had been adamant about the privacy issue. So the only place to go had to be at a distance for the house.

"So, we've been practicing. And reading a lot-" Sirius started, the greenish tone no longer visible in his features.

"For a moment there we thought we were goners."

"What are you talking about exactly?" Remus asked a little surprised.

"What we always talk about lately!" James prompted in exasperation. "The Animagus thing."

"Oh."

It's not that Remus did not want them to succeed. Only, after almost two years of trying it over and over, of practicing spells and enchantments and even potions, they did not seem to be closer to achieve it than they had been that day when James, Sirius and Peter came into the hospital wing to tell him their idea. If he was to be honest with himself, Remus had lost hope. He still found their attempts touching to say the least, but he had long time ago learned to give up hope.

"It's the word," James was saying.

"The what?" Remus asked.

"The word. D'you remember? You're supposed to find a word which defines your essence, right? We though that was only a detail, but it's not!"

"It's the key of it all, mate," Sirius said, finally coming to a halt in a small clear.

He looked around to make sure nobody could see them.

"So, this one word which should define you, right?" he continued. "Well, it's much more difficult that what we thought it could be!"

"Fortunately, Sirius is staying at home these days, so we've been having loads of time to think it thoroughly."

"Why are you staying at James'?" Remus asked curiously.

"I can't stand being in Grimmauld Place – that's my parents house – longer than necessary, and I'm ready to bet my lovely Mum is even happier with this arrangement," he shook his head a little. "Never mind that."

"So, the word," James continued, "if you don't get it right, nothing happens. And I think that if you get it awfully wrong something awful might happen."

"'Cause, you know, words can be quite powerful."

"Finally, yesterday, I came up with Sirius word: loyalty."

Remus arched an eyebrow. Somehow he could not see it.

"I know, right?" Sirius said, as if he had just read his thoughts. "I thought James was mental too. Because, you know, my mother is always giving me that 'loyalty to the family, loyalty to the blood' crap and I don't like it in the sightless."

"Apparently," James continued, "this is another type of loyalty."

"And?" Remus started feeling excitement crawling up his spine. Was it possible that they really-?

"Do it, mongrel!" James cried merrily.

"I am so not a mongrel!" Sirius said importantly.

He gave a couple of steps away from the other two and frowned in concentration.

"He has to feel the word, you see?" James whispered in Remus' ear.

Then, Sirius did the most strange of things, he crouched into the grass in all fours, beaming, and looking very much as a boy and nothing else.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"You have to be joking!"

"No, no," James said hastily. "You haven't morphed, mate, give it another go."

"Oh bollocks!" Sirius said, going red in the face and standing up.

"Again, again," James prompted. "Don't forget the word."

"Doesn't he need a wand for this?" Remus asked while looking at Sirius frown again, this time with his eyes closed.

"No wands," Sirius muttered, his eyes still closed.

"No wands," James repeated.

And then, it happened, and even though they had prepared Remus, he never actually thought it would.

Sirius body was changing rapidly, not the way a werewolf morphed, with convulsions, pain and a lot of bones crashing. This was a much soft, swift, and apparently painless way. He was getting hairy, his clothes had disappeared, his face had now a snout and it just made absolute sense for him to stand in his four dog-like legs.

"Yeah!" James cried, jumping into the air. "You did it, mate!"

He gave Remus a strong pat between his shoulder blades but he hardly registered it. In front of him, were Sirius had been just an instant ago, was a very handsome large black dog, waiving its tail rapidly and grimacing as if he was smiling. Remus could feel his mouth opening but he did not seem able to close it again.

"So, what d'you reckon?" James asked, beaming.

Remus felt his throat dry and his palms sweaty.

"It's- it's brilliant!" he murmured in awe.

The dog started walking in circles around them and after a couple of rounds he broke into a run, just to come less than a minute later with a log on his teeth.

"He even behaves as a dog," James explained.

It seemed that the dog was trying to stand in his back legs and suddenly, Sirius was back, fully clothed and laughing loudly.

"You see, Moony! Loyalty!" he cried.

"It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen," Remus said again, still not sure if he liked this new nickname or not. "How… how does it feel?"

Sirius scratched his skull, rumpling his hair.

"It's, dunno, different. My thoughts are not the same. I mean," he looked around as if the answer could be found etched on the trees. "I know I'm not a dog, right? I know I'm… me. The thing is I feel as if my thoughts were a little less… dunno complex."

"Come off it," James said with a snort, "your thoughts are never complex."

"Sod off! I mean it!" Sirius prompted indignantly. "It feels different. You'll see!"

"What about you?" Remus asked James.

His smile receded a little.

"I haven't been able yet. I haven't found my word."

"We wanted to show you this, of course," Sirius said, "but we also wanted you to gives us a hand with that. You know, since James was the one finding my word to begin with."

Remus looked at them for a long moment. Now that he could think about it, Sirius word did make a lot of sense. He was a loyal friend but his loyalty was not outspoken, nor the obvious kind. Then… what should be James'?

"What about your Patronus?" Remus asked Sirius.

"What about it?" he asked.

"Your Patronus is not a dog, how does that work then?"

"Animagus had nothing to do with Patronuses. We thought about it at the beginning but that was not the right road," James explained. "So, all the time we were learning to produce a Patronus was a waste of time."

"Not really," Remus said, "they're useful."

"Sure, they might be, but they are not related to the possible Animagus form. You see, a Patronus comes from a happy memory, so it's more or less the shape of your happiness. Therefore it could change, theoretically. You know those tales about how couples tend to have the same Patronus."

Remus nodded.

"Animagus," James continued, "are your true shape… or something like that. Sometimes it's the same, sometimes not."

"My Patronus is a bear," Sirius added as to prove James' point.

"So," James said, "knowing that my Patronus is an eagle won't help us."

"Honour," Remus muttered and it was almost as if the word had come before the actual thought.

"Sorry?" Sirius and James asked.

"That's your word," he could feel his cheeks burning with excitement, he knew he was right. "Honour. That's what you are about."

James was frowning slightly but Sirius started to beam as well, bright eyes piercing Remus'.

"You know, mate, I reckon you're right!"

"It's sort of obvious, isn't it?" Remus nodded.

"Yeah, it could be," James said, his voice still a little dubious.

"Give it a try then!" Sirius said, stepping back to give him some room. "Go on!"

Remus did the same, without taking his eyes off James.

"You know how this goes," Sirius added. "It's all around your word."

James nodded, and closed his eyes. A moment later he was frowning, and then shaking a little, and Remus could see tiny drops of sweat shining on his forehead. And then…

His transformation was as swift as Sirius' had been; it was something large, with short brown fur and long legs. And on its head, large handsome antlers.

"Wicked!" Sirius murmured.

Remus was speechless.

The stag gave a couple of tentative steps in his direction taking in its surroundings at the same time.

Sirius stretched a hand carefully and placed it on the antlers. He gave it a little shake. The enormous animal shook his head; Remus could never have guessed a stag could look this disapproving.

He started laughing out loud. He could not help it. Sirius was laughing too, and a second later, James was back, joining in the cheery atmosphere.

"It's the most brilliant thing there is!" he said.

"I know, right?" Sirius replied between peals of laughter.

Remus seemed to regain the ability to speak.

"It's just… grand!"

* * *

**AN: I'd like to thank Dimcairien, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, ., NeverBeenDarkMarked, QueenCobraWing and Shuffles for such wonderful reviews! You guys make my day!**

**Cheers!**


	13. Dumbledore must be mental

_September 1__st__ 1975_

Dumbledore must be mental. That was the only possible explanation. He was brilliant of course, but maybe because of his age he was starting to lose it. That made sense. Too much exposure to Merlin knew what sort of spells plus being nearly one-hundred years old could do that to people.

Because otherwise there could not be an explanation to… to this.

Remus twirled the little golden badge between his index and thumb, trying to make something out of it. It was nothing: just a P. A golden P emblazoned over the silhouette of a golden lion. A P which stood for prefect.

And that did not make any sense.

Unnerved and frustrated, Remus closed his trunk and looked around his room, checking if he had forgotten anything.

Composing a cheerful enough expression, he stepped into the sitting room, ready to be dropped at King's Cross. At least his parents were proud. Actually, much more than that. It was the only upside he could see on his current predicament.

Of course, he thought an hour later, while pulling his truck into the empty compartment, there could be another reason for him to be appointed as the new Gryffindor prefect. And if that was the case, Dumbledore was far away from mental: he was omniscient.

Was it possible that he had figured out what they, James, Sirius, Peter and himself, were planning to do? Was naming him prefect a way the Headmaster had come up to stop them? And if that was the case, how on earth was he supposed to do that, seeing that they were already two unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts… or, on their way to Hogwarts, to be precise.

Not to mention that, truth to be told, he did not wanted to stop them, nor when they were this close of finally achieve what they had been wanting to do for such a long time!

"Oi, Remus!" James' voice made him jump about a foot.

"Hey," he replied, with something similar to panic growing inside him.

How was he supposed to tell them what had happened to him?

"So, everything all right?" Sirius was entering the compartment, giving Peter a hand with his trunk.

"Er… yeah… no… I mean."

"What's that?" Peter said, pointing at Remus' hand.

Somehow he had spotted the golden gleam of the badge.

"Oh, this…" Remus started, trying to sound nonchalant. "It's a bit stupid really."

With reflexes only years of playing Seeker could give somebody, James launched forward and less than a second later, he was holding the badge up for the other two to see it.

"You're a prefect?" Sirius said, with a mixture of outrage and amusement in his voice. "A prefect?"

"I'm sure there must be a mistake," Remus started.

"No mistake, mate," Sirius continued. "You're perfect for the job. I mean, far better than any of us!"

"I'm not!"

"Yeah, you are always in the good side of teachers no matter what you do," Peter added.

"That's bollocks!"

"We have to be careful, now," Sirius added smiling. "We will have to behave from now on, otherwise Remus here will start giving us detentions."

"Come off it!"

"Still, you're the one for the job, mate…" James said, without taking his eyes off the badge, "except for that… well," he dropped his voice dramatically, "that furry little problem of yours."

"Thank you, finally somebody pointed out the obvious," Remus prompted, rising his arms in exasperation.

"I don't see how that could be a problem," Peter said.

"Neither do I," Sirius added.

The train was starting to move.

"I must go anyway," Remus said, hunching his shoulders a little. "Give me that back please?"

James frowned a little, but obliged.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"The prefects' carriage."

"From the way he says it, you could think he's going to kiss the giant squid," he heard Sirius said before closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Remus, wait, wait!"

He turned around reluctantly. Lily Evans was walking down the corridor, avoiding a group of second years chatting in the middle of the way.

"What is it?" he said, trying hard not to sound as weary as he felt.

She looked a little dishevelled and out of air… and somehow lacking the confidence that seemed to be a characteristic feature of hers.

"Can I… can I talk to you for a moment?" she whispered very fast, biting her lip.

"Er… sure," Remus said, puzzled.

The prefects meeting had finished, as well as their patrolling duties for the time being, and he had been longing to get back into his compartment, grab something to eat and take all this unpleasant business out of his head, and the badge out of his robes.

Lily checked around and then sighed loudly. A group of giggling fourth years were taking turns to look inside the compartment were James, Sirius and Peter were.

"You can't have a private conversation in this train!" she complained, stomping her foot in the train's wooden floor. "D'you… it is ok if we talk after the feast?"

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked arching an eyebrow.

Lily opened her mouth and then closed it again, as if making up her mind about something.

"Better in private."

Remus nodded unconvinced.

"The library, then?" she asked.

"Yeah… after… after the feast, I'll meet you there," he said, his mid racing through possible reasons why, of all people, Lily Evans would be suddenly interested in talking to him. Apparently getting a Prefect badge could make you do all sorts of unusual things.

She smiled and was about to turn around but then she started talking again.

"I'm really glad it's you," she said talking fast.

"Me?"

"Yeah, that they've chosen you to be prefect. I would have hate to have to work with-"

"Oi, Moony, you coming?"

James had popped his head out their compartment, grinning broadly. The group of fourth years scattered, still laughing.

"Why Evans, how are you today?" he exited the compartment and started approaching them.

"Exactly my point," Lily said to Remus, raising her eyebrows significantly. "Later, then."

"Yeah, later," he murmured before she broke into a run, not caring this time about running onto the group of second years.

"Hey, what were you two talking about?" James asked.

Remus shrugged and started walking inside their compartment.

"No idea. Could you pass a Cauldron Cake?" he asked Peter.

"You're not asking her out, now, are you?" James looked both menacing and unsure and Remus wondered for an instant how it could be possible.

"Who?" Sirius asked. "Moony's got a girlfriend?"

"Come off it! That's just another thing I can't do now, can it? And no, James, I'm not asking Lily Evans out! Far from it. She just happens to be the other Gryffindor prefect."

"I wish I were a prefect," James said dreamily, dropping onto one of the sits, next to Peter.

"So, what's all this rubbish about 'another thing you can't do'?" Sirius asked, ignoring James.

Remus sighed.

"Sometimes I think you don't get it," he said grimly. "I can't date, I can't be a prefect… and who knows how many other things I won't be able to do… like getting a job, or having kids or… dunno, just stare at a full moon."

For once, the other three seemed to be speechless.

"And you've been thinking about this for how long?" finally James spoke.

"Never mind," Remus said dismissively, shaking his head. "I guess I'm just a little morose."

It was just half of the truth. The other half lied in his pocket, in the form of a carefully labelled schedule with red, blue, green and yellow squares marked for patrol duty.

* * *

Predictably, the library was deserted. No student in his or hers right mind would go there right after coming back from summer holidays.

What could Lily Evans possible want from him? They had never been friends, and except a handful of random polite conversations, he was sure they had never actually talked about something. Truth to be told, until that afternoon he was positive she hated him, since she seemed to hate everything related to one James Potter who, on the other hand, seemed to adore everything related to her.

Half an hour had passed and she was nowhere to be seen. Remus was thinking about sitting and one table and starting reading something when she finally arrived almost running.

"I'm glad you're here," she said breathlessly. "Sorry I'm late. I didn't want anybody to see me, so I took all possible long ways."

Remus smiled.

"And why was that?" he asked, his curiosity mildly piqued.

Lily shrugged, looking at her feet.

"I am willing to bet you wouldn't want anybody to listen to what I want to tell you."

Remus frowned a little.

"Which is?"

This time Lily looked at him with shining green eyes. There was no laughter in them. Then she walked down the book shelves; she appeared to be trying to make sure anybody was there to eavesdrop. From her desk, Madam Pince glared at her; she ignored it. Finally Lily sat on a table, her eyes levelled with his.

"I know you're concerned about the roster."

Remus did not expect anything like that and his bewildered expression must have been perfectly clear to her, for she continued.

"You know the schedule the Head Boy gave us, for prefect duties. I saw you looking at it and I reckon you're worried about it."

He nodded, not sure of where this conversation was leading to.

"It seems this is going to be a busy year…" he started.

"I just wanted to say… I'll cover for you," she cut in, looking at her shoes again. "Whenever you're… you know… ill."

Remus could not see her eyes from where he was standing and it was starting to make him feel edgy. He needed to know exactly what she was implying.

"How do you know I'll be ill?" he started slowly.

Lily looked at him again.

"Please don't be mad at me," she muttered.

That was even more surprising.

"Why should I?"

"Because I looked into it. I came in here at the end of last year, and read all about them. I had recognised some of the symptoms, and how you're always away once a month. And especially the way they behave afterwards."

"They?"

"Yeah, you know, Potter and the others. But that's not the point," she shook her head a little. Was she blushing? "The thing is, I know you're a werewolf."

Somehow, even though it was coming as a shock, Remus did not felt the fear he had felt when James, Sirius and Peter had told him something similar, almost five years ago. This was much calmer, almost predictable.

"I'm not," he said automatically, even though he knew from looking at Lily's eyes, there would be no way to convince her of this.

This time Lily actually chuckled.

"Of course you're not," she said. "You're just sick once in a while, right?"

Remus started smiling as well, despite of the situation. This was turning into one of the most bizarre conversations he had ever had.

"Yeah," he said.

"Yeah," she repeated. "And that just happens to be on full moons, right?"

"Riiiight," where was she getting to? Did she actually wanted him to say the word aloud?

"And your friends have started to call you Moony because…"

"Because…" he continued.

"Because you're crazy?" Lily finished.

Both of them looked at each other for a moment. He felt as if he was daring her to run away.

"So," Lily continued, her voice now businesslike. "Whenever you feel like… you know… you're going to be… erm… indisposed," now there was definitely laughter lingering in her voice, "I'll just cover for you. I'll say you were there or that you have just left for the loo or something like that."

Remus shook his head.

"And why on Earth would you be willing to do that? It means a lot of extra work plus having to tell a couple of lies now and then."

"Why on Earth wouldn't I?" she prompted, standing up and starting to walk towards the exit of the library. "You're a decent fellow, Remus. Far more decent than… well, a lot of people around here."

Remus followed her.

"And, of course," she added, "I'm not telling anybody."

With that, she started walking down the corridor. Remus stood there for a moment, trying hard to figure out what to say.

"Wait, Lily," he broke into a run and caught up with her at the bottom of a large flight of stairs.

She was still smiling.

"Why you're not afraid?" he asked.

She had not been, not now, not before at the prefects' carriage when she had beamed at him the moment he had entered and had made some room for him to sit at her side. And even though Remus had looked for it just a moment ago, when she had told him she knew, the fear had never been present in those bright green eyes.

"Why should I?" she said, as if it was the most obvious of questions.

Remus shrugged.

"Everybody is afraid of… of werewolves," there, he had said it. "It's just natural."

Lily smiled.

"That's one of the upsides of being a Muggleborn, you know? You grow up with a lot less prejudices and get to make your own choices."


	14. The rat circled the centre of the room

_Early November 1975._

The rat circled the centre of the room and then broke into a fast run zigzagging through the broken furniture. It tried to climb the stairs, and after a couple of attempts, it succeeded to get into the landing. It was panting.

"You've proven your point, Peter, now get down!" James called.

Sirius, at his side, just barked.

An instant later Peter was sitting on the topmost step of the stairs, beaming at them.

"So, what was your word, then?" Remus asked.

Peter shook his head.

"Not telling."

"What?" Sirius said, having just morphed back.

"You have to tell us!" James prompted indignantly.

"I'm not telling," Peter repeated, climbing down the stairs.

"Come off it," Sirius said, "you know our words; it's just fair for you to tell us yours."

"No it's not," Peter prompted. "You told me because you wanted to. I don't want to tell-"

"Are we doing this, then?" James cut across. "This month?"

Peter's word apparently forgotten, the three of them looked at Remus and almost unconsciously, he looked down at his prefect badge. He was feeling more excited than ever before in his life, the possibilities that seemed to open to him, the new adventure that full moons would be now.

"Definitely," he nodded. And yet, there was something else. "I guess…" he started.

"You guess?" Sirius asked.

"I mean… nothing's gonna go wrong, right?"

James gave him a pat in the back.

"We know the books by heart now. We know this is absolutely risk-free. Even if you bite us, it won't be dangerous; you can't give us lycanthropy while we're animals!"

"I know," he said firmly, trying to make all his insecurities go away.

"It's settled then," Peter said and Remus was sure he was just trying to distract the others from questioning any further about his word.

Remus just nodded.

"I need you to promise me something, though," he added as an afterthought.

"What is it?" James asked.

"You're not to come in here until I'm fully transformed."

"Why's that?" he asked again.

"I don't know how it is like, the process of transformation, " Remus tried to explain, "but I think it's then when something could get out of control. That's something that's not in the books, you see? We don't know what might happen."

"So, what are you saying?" Sirius arched an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying you should wait in the tunnel until I'm transformed, before coming in."

"How are we going to know?"

"Oh you'll know all right," he tried hard to sound nonchalant, despite of the shiver the mere thought sent down his spine. "I'll just stop howling."

* * *

_November 18__th__ 1975._

"Promise not to laugh," Peter asked, his tiny eyes circling the room.

"I won't," Remus said, fixing an envelope to one of the school owls' claw.

His head was throbbing and his palms were already sweaty. He did not need his lunar chart to tell him the full moon was approaching. And Peter, taking ages to tell whatever he was intending to tell, was not making matter any better.

"I don't know where it came from… I just know… it was the right one, you see?" he was trailing off.

From the glassless window of the owlery Remus could distinguish the crimson robes of the Quidditch team practicing for the upcoming match. It had not been casual Peter had waited to this moment to tell him. He had even made him swear he would not tell James or Sirius about it.

"What is it?" he asked, trying not to sound as restless as he felt.

Peter opened his eyes as wide as possible.

"I don't know what it means," he warned.

"You don't know the meaning of your word?" Remus arched an eyebrow.

"No, of course I do… I mean, I don't know why that is my word. But it must be, right? Because I could transform?"

Remus just nodded, feeling his patience was wearing off.

"Survival," Peter whispered.

"What?" Remus asked puzzled. This was something definitely unexpected.

"That's my word, survival. So… that's what I am, I guess, a survivor."

Remus racked his brains trying to see the connection between the short boy in front of him, the rat and the word. He could see none.

"I don't get it."

"Neither do I," Peter said, watching the owls fly out the windows. "I don't remember ever having survived anything and still… what if…?"

"You're afraid something might happened to any of you when I… you know, on the full moon."

Peter nodded.

"What if-?" he repeated.

Remus shook his head.

"Don't come this time, then" the idea had just come out of the blue.

"What?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Don't come this night," he said again. "Because, if anything, you're the most vulnerable of the group. I don't think I'd be able to harm a dog or a stag… but a rat… I might actually eat you!"

Peter opened his eyes wide again.

"D'you reckon?"

Remus pushed his hair out of his eyes. Was that a real possibility? It was the four of them, it always had been. How would they do this without Peter?

"I don't know…"

Peter looked thoughtful at the players on the pitch.

"That doesn't make any sense," he finally said. "Listen, I don't think the word's that important. Or maybe it is, but not right now. I'm coming anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded, "I don't want to be the one left behind."

Remus beamed at him. He understood exactly what he meant.

* * *

The werewolf opened its eyes, panting a little. The heat, the hunger, the pain and the fury were making its legs tremble and a low grunt was coming from his throat.

He needed to stretch, he needed to go out, he needed prey.

The beast looked around trying to figure out where it was. The place was familiar, it was like a cage. He did not need steel bars or stone walls to realise that this was a place he could not get out from. Whenever he woke up, there was always this cage full of furniture, the smell of blood lingering everywhere. But there was never prey; there was never something to chase, to eat.

At least until now.

There were sounds coming nearby, from the other room of this place that was so much like a cage. Paws. Soft paws, strong hoofs, something scurrying.

Was it possible that this time, at last, after so many years of hunger, he was going to get prey? Was he going to calm his hunger?

He growled softly, anticipating the end of his hunger. Finally.

Another creature entered the room. It was taller than him, different, but not as much. The antlers on its forehead looked a bit intimidating, but there was something in the animal's posture that told the werewolf this was not a threat. It was not prey either.

He cocked his head, still listening.

Another animal was entering his cage. This was as large as he was, and much more similar; furry, pitch black, looking at him with wide grey eyes. And then a third creature came in, very small. In fact, it was so little it seemed almost insignificant.

The werewolf realised there was no calming from his hunger this time. And yet, he didn't felt that hungry anymore.

The black creature approached him, very slowly, with its head bowed. It whimpered a little; the werewolf did not know what he was supposed to do now. This strange animal did not seem to be menacing and yet he knew it could be a worthy adversary.

It was much closer now, and the werewolf gave a step back, growling. The black creature stopped on its tracks and looked at the larger one. It came closer as well, both looking at the werewolf.

They were not going to attack him, the werewolf was sure of that.

And yet…

The larger animal turned around and started walking into the other room, the tiny one following him closely. Finally the black one made the same, but stopped midway to look at the werewolf. It seemed they were telling him to follow them.

Relieved from the heating fury and from the hunger, the werewolf gave a little cry and followed the animals.

* * *

Remus opened his eyes, recognising the smell of potions, of starch and clean sheets, and the white light of the hospital wing. Something was missing though.

He looked around; his bed was surrounded by curtains as it usually was. At the bedside table, his wand was waiting for him. What was it, then?

Suddenly he realised, as he stretched his arm to grab his wand. There was pain, of course, but it was almost insignificant in comparison with what the previous full moon nights had been. He could feel his bones a little stiff, and his skin hot, just the way it was after a full moon. But other than that…

Remus checked under the sheets, there were no bandages in his legs or his torso. He looked around at his arms. The majority scars were those of the previous full moons, but there were almost no new open wounds, no blood, no biting marks.

Did that mean that he had not…?

The scariest of thoughts flooded his mind, while he tried hard to remember everything he had ever read on werewolves. If there was no prey, they would harm themselves; they would bit and scratch their own body. So, if he was unharmed now… he must have bitten something… somebody else!

Panic feeling his insides, Remus racked his brain looking for a way to find out. He needed to know, he needed to go and find James, Sirius and Peter and see if they were all right.

With a flicker of his wand, he opened the curtains a little. If he had indeed bit them, they must be there as well, lying in beds, covered in bandages. They were not. The hospital wing seemed to be empty. He risked opening the curtains a little more. There were two rows of beds, none of them was occupied.

What if they were in such a bad shape they had been sent to St. Mungo's?

The office door opened violently and Remus almost jumped out of bed of fight.

"How are we today?" Madam Pomfrey was as solicitous as ever, and yet there was some unknown tone in her voice.

"I'm… fine, fine," Remus said distractedly.

How could he ask her if the others were ok without saying anything about last night?

Madam Pomfrey was checking him, waving her wand and looking at his eyes and arms. She was frowning.

"Did you…?" she started, and then she closed her mouth.

"Yes?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Is everything all right?" she finally asked.

Remus nodded slowly.

"Yes… why?"

She did not answer but muttered something under her breath. Remus distinguished the word 'library'.

"I don't know," she finally said clearly, shaking her head. "You're… it is as if last night was… as if you had been much calmer this time. You're almost unharmed."

Remus' surprise was genuine.

"I feel better," he said. "Could I go now?"

Madam Pomfrey seemed not to be listening, her eyes lost somewhere between Remus shoulder and elbow.

"What? No, of course not!" she finally prompted.

Remus wanted all but groan.

He was about to marshal some arguments when the door of the hospital wing burst open. The sight of the three persons entering it was so relieving he felt like jumping out his bed and starting screaming wildly out of pure joy and relief.

"I've told you thousands of times-" Madam Pomfrey was saying.

"Good morning, Madam! A fine day to you!" Sirius called with cheek.

"Remus, mate, how are you?" James was almost yelling.

"What a nice day," Peter added.

Remus could hardly speak, he was afraid that if he opened his mouth a flow of laughter would come out without him being able to stop it.

"It's a nice morning indeed," he finally managed to say.

* * *

**AN: Thank you very much for reading and reviewing! **

**Star Ash Myst, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, Sunshine Roses, NeverBeenDarkMarked, Dimcairien, QueenCobraWing, JL, TheAssassinRenevaron... thanks a heap you guys!**


	15. The werewolf was not yet used to

_February 14th 1976_

The werewolf was not yet used to this cold feeling under his paws, not at the white matter covering the earth. It had been always wood, in every cage he had been into. Still, he did not care. It was the freedom, the whistling of the wind around his body, the speed he could attain running large distances, his companions, all these sensations were filling the werewolf's senses and he was feeling almost at ease, just trying to see how fast he could run, how high he could jump.

The first whiff went almost unnoticed. Then the wind blew and it became much clearer. Without a pause in his wild run, the werewolf changed course.

The smell was there, unknown and yet so familiar to him. It was the answer, the very answer he had been searching for all these years. The werewolf did not know why, but he was sure it was the thing he needed.

Suddenly he remembered. He was not at ease anymore. He was restless. Only this time, his hunger would be satisfied at last.

Some creature barked behind him and he could sense he was being chased. It did not matter. Whatever there was, it would be unimportant compared to the scent.

He was getting nearer now. The trail was fresh, he paused for a split of a second to smell, there was no doubt. Flesh. Fresh, young flesh. Just ahead of him, not far.

His paws hammered on the snow-covered ground and he could not only smell but also hear. There were hurried steps behind him, but those were unimportant as well. It was the voices he was focused on: two voices, two humans.

Prey.

Something inside him, some unknown force made him stop again. Following an instant much stronger than his want, the werewolf rose his head and howled. The sound was deep, and it felt as if it was anticipating what he had always yearned for and was about to get.

The smells changed, and the voices that went with them changed too. He could sense something else now. Fear. It was better this way. Almost carried away by the immense feeling of anticipation, the werewolf prepared for the next jump, the final effort to get what was rightfully his.

Pain stabbed his side. Something was charging against his body. He could hear his flesh rip and his bones crash.

The werewolf turned around, a deep growl on his throat.

The stag was pointing its antlers at him. Guided by instinct, the werewolf launched and managed to sink his teeth into the furry skin of the stag's upper leg.

Another stroke of pain stopped him getting any further. It felt as if his rare leg was ripping, and he could feel the warm blood trickling down. Moving swiftly he faced this other attacker. The big black dog was growling at him, his fangs dripping blood, and the sound mixed with his own snarl.

The werewolf paused for a fraction of a second to decide which one he should attack first.

It was the second that decided it all. An almighty noise that seemed to come from his insides told him the stag had charged his antlers against him once more. He did not know anything else any more.

* * *

Remus opened his eyes, it was causing him a tremendous effort. For a moment he thought he was back at the Shrieking Shack. It was all dark and oddly quiet except for the wind blowing nearby. When the surroundings came into focus he realised he was at the hospital wing; it must be very late at night.

It had been pain that had woke him up. He wondered if the last few months unharmed had made him forget what hurting felt like or if this time he had been worse than before. Whatever the reason, it was so strong that it had apparently beaten up Madam Pomfrey's sleeping draughts.

He reached out for her wand and the extra pain made him groan aloud.

"Hey, Moony? You awake?"

The familiar whisper made him stop in mid-air, his hand clutching the handle of his wand.

"James?"

The curtains around his bed slid open and he blinked a couple of times to make sure he was not dreaming.

James was lying in the bed nearest to his, white bandages covering part of his torso and left arm, and looking somehow sheepish with his glasses askew.

"What happened?" Remus asked. His throat was dried. "Are you-?"

He did not need to remember what had happened the night before. Realisation came over as a powerful wave: he was sure that whatever had happened, it was him the one to blame.

"I'm so sorry, mate," James whispered, "I… we didn't mean to…"

Remus shook his head.

"What are you talking about? What happened to you?"

James tried to shrug, but the movement seemed to have caused him some pain, for he winced a little.

"This is nothing, don't worry about-"

"James, what did I do?"

His friend was now looking at the white sheets as if he could see something there Remus could not.

"You couldn't help it, so don't think about it. It's nothing… It's…" Now he was looking straight into his eyes, "it's you we're worried about. You have… I broke your ribs Moony, and I reckon there is something in your head too and…"

Remus touched his head slowly, feeling it was covered in bandages, as well as his torso and one of his legs.

"You…" he started, trying to understand over the pulsing pain that seemed to have spread all over his body. "You couldn't have done this to me."

James smiled feebly.

"The antlers, you know? You… sort of ran out on us. You were heading towards the castle." He was whispering fast now, as if he was trying to get the information out of his system as quickly as possible. "So we tried to stop you, we were right behind you, only, you wouldn't come with us. So we… I had this crazy idea… to hit you, so you might stop or something… and well… I think I hit you too hard, Moony, I'm sorry!"

Remus was listening as if the voice was coming from far away, the words barely sinking in. There was this one question he needed an answer for.

"James, did I bite you?"

It seemed that it was costing him a tremendous effort. Distractedly he scratched his head, looking at the sheets again.

"Yeah, I s'ppose you did," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper. "It is sort of cool though, isn't it?" he continued with a would-be cheery voice. "How many people do we know who had been bitten by a werewolf? Except you-"

"What?" Remus hoped against hope he was having the most horrible of all nightmares. This could not be true. It just could not.

James seemed to have read his mind.

"I mean," he said, reaching out his arm, even though it was impossible for him get to Remus' bed. "Been bitten and not becoming one."

"What?" he popped up on his elbows, ignoring the pain. This time the question was not made out of panic. It seemed that James was talking in another language.

"Take it easy. Don't you remember? We've read about this! I'm all right! Look!" and apparently not caring about what Madam Pomfrey could say the next day, James started opening the bandages on his shoulder until he revealed the bare skin beneath.

The scar was large, an arch starting in the lower part of his neck and ending at his upper arm.

"See?" James eyes were bright and he was positively beaming, "you couldn't even tell it's a bite!"

Lighting up his wand to point it at his friend Remus took a look. He was right. The shape of the scar did not resemble at all the half-moon one he had on his tight since he was little.

"But how?" he asked, shaking his head slowly.

James smiled. "You are harmless to us, remember? At least when we're animals. I guess the wound changed when I morphed back. And listen to this: I've told Madam Pomfrey Sirius and I were duelling, and then he said he tried to mix two spells and something went wrong… I don't know if she'd bought it," he chuckled a little. "She'd put us both in detention, but she hadn't asked any more questions."

Remus dropped his head on the pillow. All this information mixed with the increasing pain on his body was starting to make him feel overwhelmed. It didn't make sense, why would he had wanted to run towards the castle? And how strong were James' antlers to have caused such mess on his, Remus' body?

"You're not telling me everything, are you?" his voice was now low and serious.

He wanted him to understand how important this was, how badly he needed to know it all.

James sighed.

"Listen, mate, I can't tell you all of it… there are parts I don't remember. When we morph, we feel different, you know? Sirius told you that, it's as if some of your thoughts or your reasoning or I don't know what went away so… It's not that I am a stag," he added, "but I'm not entirely human either. I don't know how to explain it to you, really."

Remus tried to arch and eyebrow and realised James would not see the gesture for part of it would be covered by the bandages.

"But what do you remember?" he asked.

"Well… I don't know this part; it was Sirius who realised it first. There was a smell, and Sirius reckons somebody was there, some student or students from the castle."

Closing his eyes, trying hard to picture it, Remus wished for the first time in his life, he could remember what it was like to be a transformed werewolf.

"You went after them, mate," James was saying softly. "We could not tell them to go away, there was no time, so we try to stop you." He messed up his hair again. "I don't know exactly who of us did what. Peter saw it all and he said we sort of had a fight. You, Sirius and me. And I knocked you out, Moony, I'm so sorry!"

His eyes were now pleading and it was difficult for Remus to see past the irony of the situation. James was actually apologising for having saved not only his secret but also two people's lives! Was it really possible that he could not understand what had actually being at stake in that moment?

"You realise," he started hoarsely, "what could have happen, right? You see I could have bitten somebody, maybe more than one-"

"We stopped yo-"

"No, James, that's not it! What if you wouldn't have stopped me? What if I had run faster, or bit harder or what if-?"

"But you didn't!" James had to lower his voice, he had practically screamed. "You didn't. You've seen us, Sirius and me, we're massive! And strong! It was a piece of cake to stop you, way too easy if you ask me. We were only slightly concerned about you getting hurt. But for what we've seen, you would've gotten hurt anyway if you'd been by yourself. We've seen you this bad before. And you've said it to us, remember? You don't bite or scratch your own body when we're there!"

He was right and Remus knew it and still… Suddenly Dumbledore's image came into his mind. The time he came over to his house to tell him he was allowed to go to school. He had said then that they should take precautions and be very careful not only for his sake but also for the other students'. And then there was this other Dumbledore talking about how great it was to have friends, when Remus had told him they had found out; how great a treasure it was. How contradictory those two thoughts could be.

"We're still going next month, Remus," James said softly, "whether you want us or not. But we have to do some things differently."

"Like what?"

"We're not to just wander around as we please, we're going to make plans every full moon. And take precautions." His eyes were now bright again, with that light Remus had come to relate with mischief in the making. "We have to come up with something so we can make sure the coast is clear, and we're not being followed, that sort of stuff, before transforming and before letting you out of the Shrieking Shack."


	16. What on earth were you thinking!

_May 14__th__ 1976._

"What on earth were you thinking? Are you mental?"

"I don't think-"

"Shut up, Peter!"

The aforementioned sat on his bed ad he seemed to shrink a little under the force of the yells.

"Give it a rest, mate-" James prompted.

"Don't you get it? Doesn't any of you actually get it?"

It was not clear when had James stopped yelling at Sirius and had actually started to defend him and the realisation of that did all but make Remus even angrier. At the beginning he had thought they all had been on the same page. Now it seemed nobody was actually getting it, he was sure of that. Now, James seemed to have wanted to walk towards him but he froze in mid air, looking from one to the other, his wand clutched on his right hand.

"I told you I am sorry-" Sirius' voice was almost pleading.

If Remus had not being this incensed he would have seen something none of them had ever seen in his friend's eyes: true regret.

"It's all a great game for you, isn't it? The fun," he sneered, "the adventure, the glory." He was making each word sound as an insult but he did not care.

Nor he cared about his voice getting hoarse out of yelling, or his fury making the glass panes on the windows rattle. He was barely aware of his surroundings at all.

"This," he yelled pointing at his own chest, "is a curse! I am a cursed person! A Dark Creature!"

"Mate, you don't -"

"Stay out of this, Prongs!" He rounded up and faced him and he did not realise how menacing he sounded. "Can you actually imagine what would have happened if you hadn't stopped Snape? Can any of you?"

Sirius seemed to want to say something, he opened his mouth a couple of times but no sound came from it.

"There is a reason why I've never wanted you to see exactly how horrible this transformation is," he faced Sirius again, "but maybe you should have seen! You should know exactly what it is like! Being a werewolf is not a way to punish somebody! It should be like an Unforgivable Curse! It should be banned! _I_ should be banned!"

"Remus-"

"Do you know what happens when a werewolf bites you? You bleed to death! You die! Unless, of course, the werewolf decides not to carry on! Or unless somebody finds you, right? And _saves you_," there it was again, the same sneer that made his throat ache. "You're one of them! You're cursed! An outcast! Having to suffer the rejection, the people looking at you with disgust, the power of the moon overcoming you, over and over again! Knowing that you're the most dangerous beast there is!"

"Shut it, Remus!" James' roar was louder than his, and he looked at him again.

Remus was panting and it felt as if he had just run a hundred kilometres. James' eyes were flashing and he seemed to be ready to punch him.

"Easy for you to say", he muttered.

"Easy for _you _to say!" James repeated. "Stop playing the victim's part! You don't have to! Sirius told you he's sorry. We're pissed at him, but that's enough now! We all are sorry! But you have to see this: nothing happened-"

"What do you mean nothing happened? He saw me, right? Peter said so!" at the mention of his name, Peter seemed to shrink even further, as if he was trying to blend in with the pattern of the covers on his bed. "Snivellus saw me transformed, he saw the tunnel, he knows what I am!"

"He was suspecting it all along," Sirius' voice was hoarse as well, and he was not looking at any of them, but at some invisible point on the carpet. "You know how he's always drooling over the Dark Arts."

He seemed to think he had talked too much, for he bit his lip.

"And?" Remus asked harshly.

"And he figured out somehow, only he wanted to be sure about you," Sirius looked at him again. "So he told me he knew, but I reckon it was a bluff. So I told him to go and see for himself if he was so brave, I thought it would be good to teach him a lesson!"

"And what about the rest of us? What about me? You would have gotten expelled and I, I would not have had _that_ privilege. I would have been sent to Azkaban!"

"Now that's not-"

"And how do you know?"

The three of them looked at each other.

"Nobody should have this, nobody…" Remus' voice broke and he turned around, as quickly as he could, hoping against hope that the other three had not seen the tears in his eyes.

* * *

"You know, I'll just hex him. The lot of them, actually. But I'd rather you tell me why."

Remus shook his head. He felt as if waking up from a very heavy dream and was barely aware that he and Lily Evans had been pacing the corridors on their usual patrol duty before bedtime.

"You want to… what?"

His throat was dry and his voice was an almost inaudible hoarse whisper but, unlike before, at their dormitory, now he was aware of it.

"I'm offering to hex Potter into oblivion if you want me to," she said as if it was the most logical thing for a Prefect to do.

Remus racked his brain for a moment trying to pin down what had been the thing he had said that made her think hexing James would be a good idea, in addition to her usual dislike for him. He did not remember having mentioned anything at all.

"I'm sorry but you lost me," he finally said.

Lily stopped and leaned on the wall.

"You're not the most subtle of guys and I'm not the most blind of girls, you know?"

Remus arched an eyebrow.

"Your point being?" he could not keep the coolness of his voice. Several hours had passed but he was still fuming, although it was a fraction of what it had been back in their dormitory.

"You know what? Never mind. It's not my bloody business anyway," and she turned around and continued walking down the hall.

Remus stood there for a moment and then he run to catch up with her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just… yeah, it's not your business, actually."

He smiled trying to make a feeble joke out of it even though he thought preparing his wand to cast a shield charm just in case was not a bad idea either.

Lily stopped and looked at him again.

"I know you're crossed at them: Potter, Black and Pettigrew. I saw you stomp out of your dormitory and out the Common Room and I saw them worrying over it. Knowing them and knowing you, I bet whatever it was is their fault." She shrugged. "I was merely offering my help to turn the three of them into flobberworms if you wish."

Remus looked at her for a long moment. There was a cunning girl if there ever had been one.

He shook his head slowly.

"I don't want to turn them into flobberworms…"

He wondered if he should tell her. What good would it come from it? And then… why not? If there was one person in the school who would understand… or maybe…

"There was an accident," he blurted. "Actually, no, there wasn't, but there could have been."

Lily's green eyes were wide open.

"You mean with your…?"

"Lycanthropy, yeah," he knew he was saying it aloud as a curse of sorts.

Maybe a part of him wanted to scare her off, to make her run for it.

"What happened?" she was almost whispering now.

"Snape… I think he knows about me. Actually, I know he knows now. He saw me."

"How?"

Remus shook his head. On the spot he decided he was not going to tell it to Lily. Even though he was mad at Sirius and even a little at the others, he knew she would be beyond anger with him if she knew. James had been beyond himself at first, and so had been Peter, in his own way. The worse, he realised it now, had been him. Adding Lily to the crowd would not make anybody any favour. His friend did not disserve that no matter what. It had been more than an accident, but it had not been a crime either.

"I don't know, he just came through the entrance of the Whopping Willow… that's where I hide, you know? When I… when there's a full moon."

"So, he did see you?" there was concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I reckon he did", Remus said, wishing he could remember.

Both stayed silent for a moment.

"But you didn't…" Lily's voice was a whisper again and Remus had to think for an instant what was she asking.

"No," he finally realised, with a pang of sadness, what she had being asking and he nodded with energy. "He's fine. James pulled him out and… sort of saved him. Funny when you think about it. They hate each other."

She was looking out a nearby window, lost in thought.

"I'll cover for you," she finally said. "If he says something I'll tell him he'd just lost his marbles or something."

Remus smiled even though he was feeling there were not many reasons to do so.

"Thanks," he muttered.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes.

"James Potter saved him?" she said out of the blue.

Remus nodded.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know."

Lily smiled and looked at him, her eyes bright with some sort of laughter.

"Oh really? So, why are you not talking to them then?"

Remus chuckled and felt heat on his face.

"I am talking to them. Only, not just yet."

"And why's that?"

"Because I'm on patrol duty with you, am I not?"

Lily snorted.

"You could be cheeky, Lupin, who'd have guessed?"

* * *

He knew where to find him. He had been giving a month worth of detentions and Filch was deeply enjoying seeing his, according to him, least favourite student of all times scrubbing the dungeons' floors using a toothbrush instead of magic.

It was not the first time he went down these corridors so late at night, but for some reason, he never felt absolutely comfortable with it. Half of the torches on the wall were off and the long moving shadows on the stone walls and floor looked like particularly solid ghosts. Remus had enough with his own grim thoughts to have to worry about shadows too.

There was a stronger light at one of the last classrooms in the dungeons and Remus followed it. Surely enough, from outside the door, he could see Sirius was there, hands and knees on the floor, scrubbing some turquoise foam on the floor. Filch, a yellow-teeth grin on his face, was sitting on a bench, distractedly waving a whip.

Suddenly Remus felt nervous and it was plain Filch was not the reason. He wanted to talk to Sirius and he knew more or less what he was going to tell him… and yet, his palms were sweaty and he was feeling it was somehow difficult to swallow.

Jus there, Filch spoke.

"Bug off. Same time tomorrow."

Remus took a step back, sinking into the shadows. He certainly did not want Filch to see him, and he was not sure if he even wanted Sirius to.

There was a scramble of feet and less than a second later, he was exiting the classroom.

"Hey, Padfoot," Remus had whispered his nickname almost without realising it, just as if his mouth had made the decision on its own.

Sirius jumped and turned around, visibly scared. At the sight of him, his eyes dropped.

"Hey, Moony," he muttered.

Both of them stayed silent for a while. Remus was not sure how to continue.

"Why isn't Filch going out then?" he finally whispered, pointing at the classroom.

Sirius shrugged.

"I expect he's just littering the place again for me to clean it tomorrow."

Remus did not know whether to smile or not.

"Can I walk with you?" he finally asked.

Sirius shrugged again.

"You've made your point already," he said feebly, but started walking nonetheless. Remus followed him.

"I don't want to yell anymore," he replied.

Sirius did not say a thing for a long while.

"I _am _sorry," he finally muttered, looking down at his feet. "I really am. It's just… you, what we do, it all makes it so easy to forget what we're actually dealing with. And he's such a prat and all."

Remus smiled a little.

"I never said he wasn't."

Sirius finally looked at him and tried a hesitant smile.

"I reckon the only thing I can say is that I wasn't thinking."

He smiled as well and nodded.

"I shouldn't have yelled like that, I'm sorry," his voice sounded hoarse again.

A punch on the ribs seemed to be Sirius' best answer and Remus tried very hard to ignore the fact that he was indeed recovering from another transformation and thus it really hurt.

"You scared the pants off us up there, you know," Sirius suddenly said.

"Huh?"

His friend chuckled.

"I've never would have thought you could be so… scary. And don't take this from the wrong end, Moony, but you can be far scarier when you're not transformed than when you're a… you-know-what."

Remus looked at him, puzzled.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not," Sirius said, looking at him in earnest. "That's why they stopped yelling at me, they told me so later. Don't get them wrong, they were as angry as you are, but then you starting yelling and yelling and it was scary. They felt I was in danger, you see? Peter was literarily wetting himself and Prongs told me he was actually considering knocking you out cold, but he was too scared to miss and then you would rip him apart."

"Come off it," Remus could not say if he was feeling ashamed or not. He was utterly confused.

Sirius stopped on his tracks and made him look at him.

"Listen, Moony, I think you don't realise how…"

"Scary?"

"No, not scary… well, yeah, a bit. What I was to say is that I think you're not aware of how… powerful you are."

Remus arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, right," he said, "because I'm the one getting top marks on every subject. You're talking about yourself, mate, and James too."

"I'm not talking about school nonsense. What use will that be when we're out? I'm talking about the way people are, you know?"

"No, I don't."

Sirius looked at him for a long moment and then he started walking again.

"Never mind, you're too thick to see it," he called at his back.

Remus caught up with him, thinking idly why all this weird conversations did have to happen while walking down corridors. His curiosity had been awoken though.

"No, wait, what are you talking about? Just so you know being a werewolf doesn't make you powerful. It just makes you helpless."

"I'm not talking about that either. I'm talking about the way you are when there's not a full moon around, what you do, the way you think…" Sirius shook his head. "Forget it, all right. You should just realise you're not only a student and you're not only a werewolf. You're something else, something bigger."

With that it seemed Sirius had nothing to say anymore and in silence they climbed the portrait hole into the Common Room. It was empty and on reaching the dormitory they realised its other occupants were already asleep. Remus knew he had to apologise to them too but the last thought on his mind before drifting off to sleep had much more to do with Sirius' words.

* * *

**AN: This chapter is dedicated to DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, wishing her a happy school year [the equivalent for that golden star, for writing the 100th review n_n]**

**Thank you very very much to all of you and above it all, to ( ), Sunshine Roses [your reviews make me think A LOT], NeverBeenDarkMarked, QueenCobraWing, Dimcairien, login password, Star Ash Myst, ****DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl,** and Solemlyswear. You people make my day!

**Cheers!**


	17. You're still bleeding

_May 19__th__ 1976_

"The only thing I see is that you're still bleeding!"

Peter's voice was rarely this audible from outside the dormitories' door. And more important, who was bleeding? Remus pushed the door open and entered the room. Peter was bending over somebody lying on the carpet, somebody wearing scarlet Quidditch robes.

Remus felt his insides freeze.

"What happened?"

A groan came from the figure lying on the ground.

"S'nothing," Sirius' voice was hoarse.

Remus approached them.

"Of course it isn't-" Peter was saying, his hands were clutching Sirius' left arm and he looked as if he had been struggling against something.

A wand, Peter's, was lying on the floor close by. It was covered in some red substance.

"It is nothing, Peter!" Sirius spoke through clenched teeth.

"What happened?" Remus repeated. "Peter, let me see."

"There is no need to-"

Ignoring Sirius, Peter heaved his hands, they were covered in blood, but Remus' gaze was fixed on another thing. Sirius' arm was dripping red, three sharp cuts had been made on his robes' sleeve and three clear cuts were visible underneath.

"What happened to you?"

"Siri-" Peter started.

"I had a Quidditch accident, all right?" he panted.

It did not seem all right at all. The brief instants Peter had taken his hands off the wounds much more blood had erupted; he placed them again at once. At the light of the candles Sirius looked pale and his breathing was agitated.

"Quidditch? Where is James, then?" Remus prompted. There was something very fishy about all this but he could not see exactly what it was.

It was normal for them to hide stuff from other people, but to do so from him seemed to be a first. And Remus was positive he did not like it at all.

"He had to go to MacGonagall. She wanted to talk to him about this kid who wants to be on the team… never mind," Sirius finished with a grimace of pain.

"I tried my best to stop it," Peter was explaining, "but _Episkey_ just won't work!"

"James doesn't know about this," Sirius said.

"But you just said it was a Quidd-" Remus started asking.

"Never mind!" Sirius repeated, almost roaring. "I'm okay! I'll be fine in a sec."

He tried to stand up and groaned again. His head felt on the floor.

"Stay put," Remus said.

"We net to get you to the Hospital Wing," Peter said.

Sirius shook his head, his teeth to strongly clenched, the skin of his jaw was even paler than the rest of his face.

"Peter's right, mate, we've got to go. Or we could call Madam Pomfrey if you can't move…"

"No Hospital Wing!" Sirius opened his eyes. It was plain it was costing him a great effort to talk. "You promise me that. No Hospital Wing!"

"But you're in a bad shape! And no matter what, Madam Pomfrey will sort you out. She doesn't need to know what happened-"

"Shut up, Peter!" Sirius voice came in a low hoarse whisper. "No Hospital Wing."

Peter stared at Remus, his eyes were wide and he looked very scared. It was plain they had to do something quickly.

"Let me try something," Remus crouched near them, and pointed his wand at Sirius.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked. "I just told you _Episkey _won't work!"

Sirius did not move, nor did he open his eyes.

"It's not that," he answered. He knew it was a very complicated spell, especially because it was non verbal. "My Mum thought me this one in case I had cursed wounds."

"How d'you know it's a coursed wound?" Peter wanted to know.

Sirius seemed to be too weak to talk. For a moment he opened his eyes again, but a second later they closed; he was panting.

"I don't know," Remus said softly, "I'm just guessing."

"But what if…?"

"Be quiet for a moment, all right? I need to focus."

He breathed heavily. It was not only something that needed a lot of concentration. The words were many and even if he was going to say them only inside his mind, he needed to remember them all on their proper order. And what would happen if he got it wrong? He could not even think of it.

"Take your hands off, now," he ordered, and Peter obeyed.

Blood started flooding again and Remus carefully pointed the tip of his wands to the first wound. He wanted to close his eyes, in order to concentrate better but he knew he had to see what he was about to do. Sirius was not moving now, only breathing evenly; maybe he had fainted. It was now or never.

The soft crimson light emerged slowly from the tip of his wand and covered the first wound. For a moment that felt like an eternity nothing else happened. Remus could feel Peter's eyes jumping from the wound to his own but he did not dare looking back.

And then Sirius moved a little.

"I think…" Peter whispered. "I think it's closing, look!"

Remus did not want to. Pointing his wand at the second wound, he repeated the incantation in his head. Another ray of red light covered the slash, and then a third one posed on the last cut. The first spell was vanishing. Underneath it there was only an old-looking scar. Remus let go a breath he had not know he had been holding. It had worked.

"You did it, Remus." Peter's voice was full of awe.

Sirius stirred a little, but he did not open his eyes.

"Is he going to be all right?"

Remus stretched two fingers and put them softly on Sirius' neck.

"It looks he will, he has a strong pulse. I reckon we have to check on him, though. I don't know if there's something else in those wounds. Come on, help me levitate him to his bed."

Peter nodded and as Remus pointed his wand at the body, he opened the curtains of the four-poster and took of the blankets. A moment later Sirius was lying peacefully, without moving. Remus sighed and sat on the bed next to him. He needed some answers.

"How did he get those scars?"

Peter was looking as if he wanted something to do; he took his blood-covered wand off the floor and started cleaning it with his school robes.

"He told you," he finally muttered. "Quidditch accident."

He was not meeting Remus' eye, but looking intently at his wand. He shook his head.

"You're the worse liar there is. The fact that the spell I used worked means that his _were_ cursed wounds. There was no accident. Somebody cursed him and I think you know who."

It took Peter a long moment to look at him again.

"I shouldn't tell you."

"Why? What's so terrible about this?"

Peter sighed.

"This isn't my thing to tell."

"Why?" It was exasperating.

"Because. If Sirius had wanted you to know, he had told you himself."

It was true and Remus could not help but feel hurt. They did not trust him and he could not understand why.

The door opened and James entered, carrying his broomstick on his shoulder.

"What's happening?"

The satisfied smile on his face disappeared as if it had been never there the moment he took in the scene. A second later he was at Sirius' bed as well.

"A Quidditch wound, it seems," Remus said, each word heavy with sarcasm.

James ignored him.

"Sirius, mate, what's happening," he gave him a couple of soft taps on the face, but Sirius did not move.

"He said it was an accident," Peter was talking really fast. "Remus patched him up; he did not want to go to Madam Pomfrey. And now I think he's fine, just tired. He lost a lot of blood. But he's fine," he repeated.

James took his eyes off Sirius pale face and looked directly at Peter's. Remus could have sworn they were communicating much more than what had been said. Looking as it was costing him an effort, James spoke again.

"He's fine, then." It was obvious he was making an effort to sound cheery.

"Yeah, he's all right," Peter wasn't even trying.

It was enough.

"Oi!" Remus said, punching the mattress right next to Sirius' body. "Would you tell me what on Earth is going on?"

Both looked at him and then at each other.

"Nothing is-" Peter started talking.

"Don't give me that stuff again. I know something's happening. Is Sirius in trouble? You know better than to think I'll report him! I never have, why should I start now?"

James shook his head.

"He's not in trouble. I mean, he hasn't done anything bad really… well, at least not since… you know."

Remus nodded.

"Yeah, I do," the memory of the last moon was still too fresh in all their heads.

James stared at Sirius again and Remus did the same. He looked peaceful, as if he was just taking a nap. Without knowing why, fear took over Remus. Sirius seemed to be all right but what if he had gotten himself into so much trouble the three wounds had just been the least of his worries?

"He'll find out anyway," James muttered, and for a moment it was as if he was having a discussion with Sirius although no sound came from the latter.

"But-" Peter started.

"He'll find out anyway," James repeated, this time looking at him.

"About what?" Remus almost cried. He could not say if he was scared or exasperated. Maybe both of them.

"The thing is…" James started. Peter kept looking at Sirius. "We don't know how you are going to react to this. But now… I think you ought to know anyway. It's too complicated for you not to find out sooner or later. And you know what?" his jaw was suddenly clenched, a new defiant air on his features. "This," he pointed at Sirius, "has gone way too far. And it is not important what might have happened, not really. The fact remains that _nothing_ happen. This is real, though. And I'm not going to wait and see what else could happen."

Remus was frowning, trying to keep up with what seemed to be a lot of gibberish.

"I don't get it," he murmured.

"Snape," James said, and his hands were now on fists. "He's been attacking Sirius every day since what happened the last full moon. Only, I was always with him so there was not much harm Snape could do. And we didn't want to risk hexing him back in case… you know, in case he would go and tell… about you. And now MacGonagall tells me he won't tell, because Dumbledore has made him swear not to. So we didn't want to attack him before, because of that… furry little problem of yours…" he smiled faintly, but went on, his voice graver with every word. "We didn't want him to announce it to the whole school. But especially we were sort of… afraid of you."

"You… what?" it all felt so surreal and yet James was looking so solemn.

"Oh, come on," Peter finally spoke. "You almost _ate _Sirius the other day. We know he deserved it of course, but… we were wondering what you would do if we just go and hex Snape because of what he's been doing to Sirius."

"We?" James asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh well, you," Peter blushed.

Remus was flabbergasted.

"And meanwhile Sirius's being hexed?"

"Almost every day," James nodded. "Snape hasn't done much real harm really, even if that son of a Bludger Mulciber's been giving him a hand. Until today, it seems," he looked at Sirius again and very carefully checked on the slashes of his Quidditch robes. "But this time, mate, I'm going after him." He looked at Remus again. "And you better stay out of my way."

"But this is completely different," Remus spoke slowly. "What happened the other night… well it was foolish, and way beyond your average prank. And maybe you're right, nothing happened, not really. This," he sighed, "I have no clue what sort of spell he used on Sirius, but it was nasty."

For a long moment none of them spoke. Remus looked at Sirius again, but he felt James' and Peter's eyes on him.

"I'm not going to stay on your way. I… I'm sorry. I never thought he would… but now that you mention it, this sounds just like his thing, doesn't it?" He looked at James. "I don't know what is it that you have in mind for Snivellus, Prongs, but I think he deserves a lesson. He should know better than to mess around with us."

"Great," Sirius hoarse whisper was barely audible. "Finally."


	18. The OWLs were drawing nearer

_May 22__nd__ 1976_

The O.W.L.s were drawing nearer and it was difficult to fix study time and Prefect duties between his monthly disappearances. And still, Remus had taken the task of coming up with a way to see if somebody was approaching the Shrieking Shack as a mission of sorts and he was devoted to reading volume after volume of charms and spells that could serve them to that purpose.

He was not the only one. For the second time in living memory, James and Sirius were now to be found in the library, buried under towers of ancient looking books. It was fortunate, actually, that everybody in their year was preparing for the exams as well; otherwise their attitude would have raised more than one puzzled question. Since Peter had gotten bad marks on their last tests, he had stayed on the Common Room, trying to finish all the extra homework he had gotten.

"You can't just put a Tracking Charm on everybody in the castle," James was whispering at them over one of the wooden tables they had claimed as their own. "It would be a hell of a job to do. Look how difficult it has been on those Slytherins!"

"Plus," Remus added, "I don't think we could cast anything on, let's say, Dumbledore… or McGonagall, without him noticing it."

"Too bad, though. It works beautifully," Sirius kept looking at a piece of parchment in front of him. A group of dots, with tiny little labels, were moving up and down it, some of them disappearing when reaching the edge of the surface.

"Still, I love to be able to see were Snivellus is," he muttered. "Even though he never seems to be alone lately, doesn't he?"

Remus ignored him, even though he was right. He was trying hard to put the thought in the back of his mind, but he knew they still had the feeling they owed Snape for what he had done to Sirius. The fact that they had not done anything yet was that he was indeed surrounded by people of his own house almost all the time. And although James and Sirius did not really mind, they were also keen to avoid extra trouble with teachers, if possible.

"There is also the problem of the parchment. It's just not big enough and we cannot make those dots any smaller or we won't be able to see them, can we?"

James shook his head.

"We need to make a map of the castle, no matter how big the parchment should be," he said. "We can always fold it in like a hundred parts. The important thing is we need to draw everything. And I mean all of it, grounds, the lake, the forbidden forest-"

"We can't make a map of the forbidden forest," Sirius whispered with a snort, taking an apprehensive glance in the direction of Madam Pince just in case, "it would take us years! Plus, I don't think we need all that information. No student goes in there… well, not as humans, that is," he winked and dropped his voice even lower. "I think we should put just the edge of it. And yeah, grounds, and castle, and Quidditch pitch, and all."

"But what about the Tracking Spell?" Remus asked again.

"We need to figure out a way to cast it on everyone," James said thoughtfully.

"Maybe in the food?" Sirius suggested his voice unsure.

"How?"

"I don't know… we could slip a potion on everybody's food, we could go down into the kitchens and distract the House Elves right before dinner, and then slip a potion on the casseroles or whatever there is they use to cook our food."

Remus frowned. There was something in the idea that sounded out of place, and he was positive it would not work.

"The House Elves would notice," James pointed out. "They know their stuff and I reckon part of their work would be to test the food in some way, to check we're not being poisoned or something. Besides, there are dozens of them, how do you expect to distract them all at once?"

"And the effects of the potion will wear off eventually," Remus added.

"And we would have to go to the kitchens again and repeat it all."

"All right, all right! I get it!" Sirius growled. "It was just a thought."

Remus sighed. It was most annoying to feel they were so near getting it right and yet not being able to.

"I've got to review Transfiguration anyway…" naturally he needed to, but he also felt some time out was due too. They had been pouring their brains on the developing of this… something, they did not even had a name for and he was feeling tired and even a bit dizzy.

"Oh, come on," Sirius said. "That one's going to be easy!"

"Easy for you to say it, Padfoot," Remus muttered, stretching the last word. "My transfigurations are not _that_ effortless," he added in an undertone.

"We can't do this map thing without you," James prompted.

"Of course you can," Remus added, even though he felt rather warm with the thought of him really meaning it. "We were doing it all right without Peter."

Sirius snorted.

"He does need to study harder or he'll fail," James said flatly. "You… don't."

Remus smiled.

"And yet, I'm leaving."

He grabbed his bag and turned around to get through the library door. Except he could not. Something slippery had emerged right under his feet, and the last thing he knew, he was laying on his back on the library's stone floor, the back of his head throbbing painfully.

"See?" Sirius' voice came from a very long distance, "you're not going anywhere, Moony."

Remus closed his eyes, trying to make his head stop spinning.

"I think you overdid it, mate," James was saying.

"I didn't think he would fall head first. It's just a slippery floor, not a Stunning Spell-"

And it was precisely then, rather than when he fell, that it hit Remus.

"We'll put the spell on the floor," he muttered, his eyes still shut, not sure if he was thinking or actually speaking out loud.

It was so obvious, and so genius, and apparently so easy to do, actually, it was a wonder none of them had thought of it before.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius' voice was much nearer now, and Remus imagined he was crouching at his side.

It was with a large beam that he finally opened his eyes.

"Don't you see?" he said, popping up on his elbows and looking at him and at James, standing close-by. "We don't need to put the spell on the people. We'll put in on the floor, that is to say, on the grounds!"

"What on Merlin's name do you three think you're doing?" Madam Pince angry voice made Remus jump on his feet. "Lying on the library floor! Off to you Common Room, the three of you!"

"Could we just stay-" Sirius started.

"Absolutely not!"

"Come on," James grabbed his sleeve, swinging his bag on his shoulder at the same time, "let's get out of here."

Remus was already walking to the door, making a wide arc to avoid whatever it was Sirius had casted right next to the table they had occupied not long ago.

"It's brilliant!" James punched him on the shoulder the moment they reached the corridor. "That's what we're doing!"

"You see it, right?" Remus asked.

"No, I don't," Sirius started.

"We'll track the castle!" Remus explained, excitement trickling up and down his body as if it was something tangible. He looked around and seeing a bunch of Hufflepuffs passing next to them on their way to the room they had just vacated, he beaconed James and Sirius to stand closer and lowered his voice. "We have to try and cast a Tracking Charm not on the people, but on the place!"

Sirius' eyes opened wide.

"That's it! You're right!" he lowered his voice as well to a very excited whisper. "Except… Tracking Charms are for people, they don't work on stuff. Otherwise, I'd never lose my Quidditch gloves!"

"It's not the same," James prompted. "We're not tracking the castle in case it decides to go find another mountain to settle on! We're going to use it as a surface to _tell_ us. It's different."

"It is," Remus agreed, now not that convinced. Suddenly it all seemed so very difficult. "I don't know how it should work, though. Maybe we could try to work some alternative…"

"Of course we can," James was almost jumping, "we'll do it! It's just working on the spell we already know, right? And… trying to make something out of it, so it'd stay _on _the castle."

Remus frowned slightly. Would it be really achievable for them? Four underage, unqualified wizards, counting Peter?

"But is it possible, really?"

"What?" Sirius looked outraged, "you've just had the idea yourself!"

"I know I have… but now that I see it all more clearly… what if we can't? Work the spell I mean."

"We'll try!" James said, punching the air just the way he did after catching a particularly tricky snitch on the Quidditch Pitch. "We'll do it!"

* * *

"So, what did Flitwick said, exactly?" James asked slowly, as if he was addressing an especially dim toddler.

"And don't give us what you think he might have meant, but his exact words," Sirius added.

Peter looked exactly like he did whenever Professor McGonagall asked him a question in class.

"Well," he sighed. "At first he wanted to know why did I want to know, you know?"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"So I said to him I just thought about it, while studying for the O.W.L.s, like you said I should say."

Maybe it should have been him the one going to ask Professor Flitwick about Tracking Charms. Peter was probably the most inconspicuous of the group, but trying to make him repeat something he had heard, in a coherent way, was usually next to impossible.

"And?" Sirius asked.

"And I think he did not understand, because he kept on talking about the Trace and how you're not supposed to use magic while being underage and how the Ministry would know, and I don't think this had anything to do with it, because-"

"Wormtail!" James, cried. "That's it! The Trace!"

Remus was having some difficult to follow, and looking at the blank expressions of both Sirius and Peter, he was not the only one.

"My Dad told me once," James explained, "that the Trace is not put _on_ you but _around_ you. You know, if somebody casts a spell around Sirius, for example, while he's at home for the holidays-"

"Don't bring those memories back, please!" Sirius protested.

"- then the Ministry would know," James continued, ignoring the interruption. "Because they detect any Magic going on around him. But they know you live with wizards, so they trust your folks would keep an eye on you and don't let you do magic."

"Oh they know them, then?"

Again, James ignored him.

"But if your family was Muggle… if you were, let's say-"

"Ted," Sirius talked again.

"Who's Ted?" Remus asked.

"My cousin's husband. He's Muggle-born."

"Him," James nodded. "While being underage, if he casted a spell outside school, the Ministry would have known he was not supposed to have magic around, and then they would have punish him for doing underage magic!"

Peter was scratching his sandy hair.

"And what does that have to do with this?"

"Everything!" James said, triumphantly.

Remus was starting to see it for himself. It was exactly the same type of spell, one casted on one thing, which would detect whatever there was around it.

"So," Sirius said, "it's like mixing up the Trace with _Homenum revelio_…"

"Plus a regular Tracking Spell, so we'd know not only that somebody's there, but who's there!" James added.

"Then," Remus felt his voice shaky with excitement, "we need to get working on that map of the castle, right away."

* * *

"It's fantastic," Peter whispered in awe.

"It is," Remus agreed quietly. "Padfoot, go outside and walk down the stairs into the Common Room."

Sirius nodded and exited the circular dormitory.

His eyes fixed on the piece of parchment; Remus saw a tiny dot, labelled "Sirius Black" moving between two thick parallel lines until he reached a circle and disappeared.

"Get the other floor," James whispered urgently.

Peter passed a second piece of parchment and they put it right on top of the first one. The little dot was still circling the spot, slowly. Then he moved out into a much larger circular room labelled "Gryffindor Common Room". The dot moved around a little and then entered the smaller circle again.

A moment later, the door opened and Sirius entered the dormitory. On the parchment, the dot joined another three jammed together so tight the names were difficult to distinguish.

"We did it! We bloody did it!" James was beaming wildly.

"I think we still should work on the map," Remus said, "make it fit on just a piece of parchment, so we wouldn't have to shuffle this much."

"And then charm it, so only we can see it," Peter added, "you know, in case one of us, by accident, leaves it lying around, so nobody would know what this is."

"You mean, if you left it lying around," Sirius said.

"I wouldn't-"

"He's right," Remus cut across. "We could make it hide what's written on it, and then use a password so the parchment would show us the map again."

"But it has to be something elaborate," James said, "so nobody would say it by mistake."

"But not too elaborate it takes us ages to whip it off. Imagine we're on a hurry."

"It should be something like 'I'm done' or 'finished'."

"No, that doesn't work. We say that a lot, we could erase it by accident," James pointed out.

"We have to use much more complicated words then," Sirius said, "words we don't normally use."

"Yeah, like… 'we have concluded with the task'," Remus said.

"How about 'mischief managed'?" James suggested.

Sirius laughed.

"Sounds about perfect."

"And," Peter eyes were glowing, "we should also put some protection on it! In case somebody tries to find out what it is!"

"What sort of protection," Remus asked a little worried, "like a curse or something?"

"We shouldn't, it could get really nasty," James said.

Peter looked disappointed.

"What about some insults, then?" he added, "you know, the thing starts writing foul words or something offensive… something like that?"

The four of them were laughing now.

"Sounds about right!"


	19. All things considered

All things considered, Remus did think Sirius and James had gone a bit too far. Snivellus of course had had it coming since he had hexed Sirius, but still, Remus was fearing this new fight would do nothing but bring another retaliation from Snape and another vengeance from his friends. How would this come to an end, he had no idea.

Having made fun of him the way they had in front of the entire school, right after coming out the O.W.L.s had been too much. They had not even planned to do that, and yet Remus was sure they were not regretting it. After weeks of waiting for him to be finally alone in order to get even, they had finally had their chance and they had took it.

At some point he had had the feeling he should have stopped James and Sirius, but how could he have done that? Would he, Remus, have the… guts, or whatever it was, to just stand in front of them and tell them they were going too far? He was ashamed to admit, even if it was only to himself, that he did not think he would be capable of such feature.

Now, however, it was not Snivellus he was worried about now, while running through the almost empty corridors of the castle. He was intently looking at the small dots on the unfinished fragments of the map, looking for a particular one.

His first thought had been looking on the school grounds, not because he thought it would be a more likely place for her to be, but only because that was the only absolutely finished part of the map. It was the most urgent too, considering that was the place he dwell on while being transformed, so they had hurried up drawing every part of it and casting the spells not only to detect people on the area, but to link them to the piece of parchment.

She was not there, but it had proven him the device was working properly.

They needed to come up with a better map, though, he thought when a blow of wind coming from an open window made one of the pieces of parchment fly out of his grasp, and drift down the corridor.

He pointed his wand at it.

"_Accio_ parchment."

It was an incomplete draft of the second floor.

For a moment Remus stared at it, wondering vaguely what the other three would say if they knew that this had been the map's inaugural trip, so to speak. They were already planning a major incursion to Hogsmeade, involving the mapping of some secret passages they knew… something cunning, risky and grand for the first use of such a marvelous thing they had made.

And yet Remus had partially forgotten about all that when he had realized he needed to find Lily. What better way to do it than using the thing.

He continued walking, he had had an idea; one of the places that they had not yet drawn on the map and a possible hideout for somebody not wanting to be seen.

He had been right. The O.W.L.s were almost over, the weather was great, and the owlery was empty. Except for one person.

Remus recognized Lily's outline, looking outside one of the glassless windows. She was not making a sound, not even moving.

He remembered her expression before she stumbled away from them back outside. It had been fierce the moment she had insulted Snape and James, but the second before, right after he had called her… Mudblood…

She had opened her eyes for an instant and next to the surprise there had been pain. He was probably wrong but he had the feeling she had yelled at both of them only because she had wanted to hide how hurt she had been.

What should he tell her, now that he was so close to her, he had no idea. The only think he knew is that she might need somebody to talk to. Still, he was probably not the better person to do it. They were friends, of course, but not close, and only since both of them had become prefects. Maybe he should just leave her alone with her thoughts and hope for her to be all right.

He gave an uncertain move back and stepped on the empty skull of a mouse. The crunchy sound made Lily turn around.

He could not say if she had been crying or not. Her eyes were usually big, but now they looked huge. There was no trace of tears though.

"Hey," she muttered.

He could not say if she was angry, or sad, or hurt. It was just a flat, lifeless voice.

"Hey," he repeated.

She looked out the window again.

"What are you doing here?"

Remus looked at his feet, and then at the owls flying in and out above them.

"How are you?" he asked almost whispering.

It took her a long time to face him again. She shrugged.

"You didn't need to come up here. I insulted your pal."

Remus smiled.

"I know you did. And maybe he deserved part of it." He tried to look more serious. "But that's not the point. He hurt you."

"As if something James Potter did would ever hurt me," she said with a scorn.

Remus shook his head.

"I'm not talking about him, no. It's Snape."

For a moment the same emotion he had seen outside flashed through Lily's eyes.

"The same goes for him," she answered a little too far.

"Oh, come off it!" Remus prompted. "It's not like I know you that much but still… I mean, we've been in the same house for years. Everybody knows you and him are best friends!"

Lily sighed.

"We are not," she said in an almost inaudible whisper. "I think we haven't been real friends for a long while. I just… I've just realised it now."

For a long moment nobody said a thing. Remus was not sure if he should speak what was on his mind. Would it be worse for her? But the question was pressing and it really puzzled him.

"How, though?"

"Huh?" Lily had obviously been thinking about something else.

"How did you and Sniv- Snape became friends?"

She did not answer for a long moment and Remus had the clear impression he had crossed an imaginary line and gone too far.

"Forget it," he muttered, "it's none of my business anyway."

He was about to leave her. It was plain he was not doing her any good and maybe it would be much better for everybody if he would just go and check on James and Sirius.

"He was the first one who told me what I am," she said when he was reaching the door. He turned around and Lily continued. "When we were kids. He lives nearby, so he was the first one who figured out that what I could do as a child was magic. Of course, he knew. His Mum's a witch."

It was so simple and explanation and Remus could see it all happening. And he could understand how important it had really been, to be accepted and even liked despite whatever differences there might appear to be.

"So you've been friends even since," he said.

Lily shrugged.

"It's obviously not good enough a reason," she muttered, and Remus had the feeling she was saying it more to herself. Maybe she was still not sure and was trying to convince herself. "He's been acting… weird for a long time now. I don't like his pals and I know they don't like me. But it goes beyond that. They're… they're not that great, you know?"

Remus nodded.

"I think we've been growing apart for a long while now. What happened just proved me I was right."

He did not know what to say.

"Potter did not make the matters any better," she added. "Why on Earth are they always trying to hex each other?"

Suddenly, Remus knew the truth. It was not only that long list of little and big pranks and jinxes since they had met in first year. The very reason for it all, from James' point of view and maybe also for Snape's, was standing right in front of him.

"He's not that bad, you know?" Remus tried to say something.

"Are you going to defend him too? He bloody hexed him in front of everybody!" Lily said, and now she looked furious. "I thought you were diff-"

"You're not understanding me," he cut across hastily. "What I mean is that you'll never know all the reasons behind it all, like who started, or what could have happened right before it."

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"And do you know?"

Remus shrugged.

"Sometimes, yes."

"So what happened today?"

"Can't tell," it was not only a long complicated story. He did not want to make Lily think about the possible consequences that Sirius' would-be prank could have had on Snape.

Especially because he was having the feeling that she fighting him could have really good consequences for James.

"Oh, come on," she asked, but it sounded as she knew he would not tell her anyway.

"I'm just saying," Remus said, "that sometimes you can't know it all. And… that James's not that bad."

Lily puffed loudly.

"Neither is Severus," she added in an undertone. "At least, I think so."

Remus was not going to try to contradict her. It was plain they would never agree on that particular point.

Both of them stayed silent again. Remus was considering leaving when she talked again.

"So," it was a much brighter tone, "what do you say about Mary?"

The question seemed to be so out of place Remus thought he had misheard it.

"Mary who?"

"Come on, Mary MacDonald! You wouldn't say you don't know who she is!"

"Of course I know who she is! She's in our year! What does she have to do with James and Snap-?"

Lily rolled her eyes.

"You boys are really slow sometimes. We're not talking about that any more."

"Aren't we?" Remus could honestly say he had no idea when had that happened.

She shook her head.

"I was trying to ask you about something else entirely!"

"What's that?"

"I want to know what you think about Mary MacDonald."

Remus started to fear he was missing something important, something that would give this conversation some sense.

"Dunno, she's all right I guess. Cleaver, isn't she? Good grades?"

Lily shook her head again, and this time Remus had the feeling she pitied him somehow.

"I'm not talking about her grades. I'm talking about her. D'you like her?"

It seemed as if they had fallen into a completely different dimension and Remus had not a clue when had that happened.

"I er… of course I do… I mean," he could feel his face going red. "She's all right, isn't she? And well, yeah, I guess…"

"I mean, do you fancy her?" she asked again.

It was absolutely not like Lily Evans to ask this sort of things. Not to him, at least. That looked a lot like the sort of gossip he sometimes overheard on the halls… and it usually referred to one Sirius Black. Remus could honestly say this was the very first time he was being drag into such a conversation.

And yet the question floated between them. _Did he fancy Mary MacDonald?_

"I don't know," he said honestly, wishing he could come up with an excuse to go away, as far away as possible.

"You don't know?" her eyes were wide open in incredulity.

Remus looked at his feet, uncomfortable.

"I've never thought about it, all right?" that was perfectly true. "And besides, what's the point?"

Lily's smirk faded a little.

"What do you mean?"

There was of course a reason he would never been dragged into this sort of gossip, and even though he had never thought of it, now it shone absolutely clear in front of his eyes; as clear as a full moon, as a matter of fact.

"What's the point of me fancying somebody," he explained, trying hard not to sound as if he was sorry, "if it would be impossible for me to actually be with that person?"

The puzzled expression on her face was starting to exasperate him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Lily, come on, you know what I'm talking about!" He lowered his voice to a fierce whisper. "Full moons, remember? Me going all hairy and wild and… _dangerous_?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I fail to see why being away for one night a month would make it impossible for you to date somebody the other nights."

He shook his head, it was really sad and yet also really frustrating. Why was it so difficult for her to see it? She was behaving exactly like...

"You're just like James," Remus said without thinking.

"I'm what?" for the way she reacted, he could have called her Mud-Blood, just like Snape had.

"I'm sorr-"

"I am absolutely not at ALL like Potter!" she blurted indignantly.

"Yeah, sorry, I mean, I wasn't thinking... it's just... he doesn't understand it either!"

"Understand what? You're not transformed all the time! You could perfectly be with her any other time."

"It's not just that! You don't realise it, because… you've said it yourself not long ago, remember? You haven't grown up with the prejudice. But other people have. And Mary's relatives are all wizards. She would know what to expect from a…" he hesitated, "a werewolf. She would not want to date me!"

"She wants to," Lily prompted.

It felt as if he had been hit hard in the back of his head with a club.

"She wants to do what exactly?"

"Date you! Be with you, you know? She would kill me if she knew I told you, but she fancies you!"

Now he was speechless. Did she really?

"But," he stammered, "but that's… that's because she doesn't know… she just doesn't-"

"You could date her, see how it turns out… and eventually tell her, couldn't you?"

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.

"And what do you think she'll say the minute I tell him? And how am I supposed to tell her anyway? 'Hey, Mary, you know? If we take a walk during the full moon I might eat you'?"

Lily was now smiling in a very irritating way.

"Of course not, don't be silly. You'll find the way to tell her."

Remus shook his head. The entire conversation was going way out of hand.

"I won't find the way because I won't date her and so I'm saving us both the bad memories."

As an answer, she just shook her head.

"Just think about it, all right?" and the next moment she was leaving the owlery, all problems with Snivellus or James apparently forgotten.

If it was truly so, Remus wished he could forget some things as easily.

* * *

**AN: Thank you very much to all of you, especially cutewolf97, NeverBeenDarkMarked, Masks and Teapots, QueenCobraWing, JamesSiriusRemusNOTPeter, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, SunshineRoses, Dimcairien, Annie, Star Ash Myst [miss ya!] and CharmChaser! **

**Cheers!**


	20. He needed to tell her the truth

January 1977

The certainty that he needed to tell her the truth sooner or later was the most fluctuating thought he had ever have. Sometimes it seemed he could not possibly see her any longer without telling her what he really was; most of the times, though, it seemed like such a trivial fact, something unsubstantial, really.

And, what if he had had to invent three different stories so far to hide his disappearances for the last months? Apparently, she had not given it too much thought, why should he then?

While kissing her, hidden in an empty classroom, lycanthropy was as far from his thoughts as it could possibly be. And, between her cheery presence and how fun his monthly escapades now where, with the company of James, Sirius and Peter, Remus did not remember being happier in his life.

So he would have to lie again next month but was it such a bad thing?

"What are you thinking about?" Mary asked.

Remus smiled.

"You," he partially lied.

She smiled, her eyes bright.

"Are you?"

As a replied he bent over a kissed her again.

If somebody had told him at the end of last year he would turn out to be snogging with a girl on an empty classroom instead of cheering down in the Quidditch Pitch he would have thought that person had been at the wrong end of a Confundus spell.

Not that the idea had been entirely new to him. As a matter of fact, ever since Lily had said Mary liked him, he had found himself thinking quite too much about what it would be like to date somebody. Of course, it was not a serious thought. He knew that whatever it involved, relationships were just way out of his reach.

But he could not stop thinking about it.

And after coming back to school he had had his first internal fight of wills concerning Mary. He knew he should just forget everything Lily had said. He just had to. But on the other hand, she was indeed a nice girl, and there was nothing wrong in wanting to spend some time with her, wasn't it?

Then it had occurred to him that maybe Lily had been right. Mary seemed to be as eager to be with him as he was to be with her.

Had he fancied her back then? Maybe not, not the way he had come to fancy her later, after that first very awkward kiss.

"We should probably go down and see the Quidditch results…" Mary sounded unconvinced.

Remus shrugged. Quidditch seemed so unimportant these days.

"Should we, really?" he asked, his eyebrow arched.

Mary giggled.

"Dunno."

And she was kissing him again, her hands wrapped around his waist.

"Gryffindor is not even playing," he managed to say, more to himself than to her.

It was that amazing feeling of letting it all go washing over him and making everything else unimportant. She was a great girl, he had come to learn that, witty, funny, and so willing to be with him he could hardly believe it.

That's because she doesn't know who you really are, that annoying inner voice of him has talking again, forcing him to face another most unpleasant reality.

Did she really need to know?

He had almost told her on their very first date, although you could hardly have called it a date. They had bumped into each other at the Three Broomsticks and just muttered something like hello. Without knowing how, less than a minute later Mary and Lily had pulled a couple of extra chairs and had sat at _their _table.

He was sure that the fact that Lily Evans seemed to be not that disturbed to share the same air than James must have caused him some sort of heart failure. He had not showed a thing though; if something, he had behaved his best. And just a couple of minutes later than that, everybody had gone and he and Mary had been left alone. Remus still failed to see how had this happened and was starting to suspect Lily had some skills on telepathy, as absurd as it sounded.

Back then, it had not been important, for that had been the beginning of their first date. Neither Mary, nor him had seemed to have been terribly bothered to have had to serve detention afterwards because they had came back to the castle much too late. After all, they had had to do that detention together, what else could they wish for?

Remus could see the scene in his mind again. Her thin hands clutching her Butterbeer, her eyes bright, looking right into his, and he thinking this was an understanding girl, Lily's friend, somebody that could see him just as he was, and like him.

But before he could open his mouth and tell her that something that was nothing really, only this tiny little detail she should know about him, something that happened every month, but that he could very well manage, before he could come up with the words to say it, her hand had been on his and he had forgotten all about it.

He needed to tell her, sooner or later. And better make it sooner so he could really enjoy this, without this irritating inner voice nudging him whenever they were in the middle of… anything.

"Mary, can I tell you something?"

She frowned a little. There had been something solemn in his voice, even though he had intended for it to sound casual and nonchalant.

"What is it?" she asked, pulling back a centimetre or two, but without letting go of his waist.

Remus smiled, trying to control some inexplicably anxiety he was suddenly feeling.

"It's just… there is something I've been meaning to tell you… since we started… you know. But there hadn't been the right moment… It's something I think you should know."

She was looking expectant; he took a deep breath. It was now; he just had to do it.

"Do you remember a couple of weeks ago I had to go?"

She nodded.

"You had to see your Mum, right? Because she is ill…"

Remus felt as if his insides were flinching a little.

"Well, that's what I told you, but it is not exactly true."

Mary's arms fell limp at her sides and she took a step back.

"D'you lied to me, Remus?"

"No, I didn't! I mean, yes, but only because… because it's not so easy to explain and I'd rather tell you properly."

He took a step forward and took her hands, trying to sound reassuring again.

"I have this… illness… no, this condition…" her head was a little crooked to one side, and her gaze was piercing. He had to continue now. "I get ill once a month, and while that happens, I have to be away, because… well, because it's contagious, you see?"

She was looking worried now.

"What kind of illness?"

He pictured James, Sirius and Peter; he thought about Lily. It had not been such a great deal for none of them. Why should it be different with Mary? He decided it should not.

"It's called lycanthropy," he whispered.

Remus knew he had said the wrong thing the minute the word escaped his mouth.

As she freed her hands from his grasp and took a step back, it was as if somebody had put a mask on Mary's face turning it into something he did not recognise.

There was terror, and disgust, and something that felt a lot like fear.

"You what?" The voice did not sound as hers either.

He cleared his throat.

"It's not my fault," Remus had never, ever said that before, and yet it was a somewhat familiar idea. "And I'm dealing with it well, you know, keeping away from peop-"

"Are you a werewolf?"

The question asked in high-pitched voice felt like a punch in the face.

"Yes, I am, but that's only one night a month! I'm just normal, as anybody else."

He tried to reach for her hand again even though he knew before it happened that Mary would pull back again.

"Get away from me you… you… beast!"

Remus did.

Without noticing he took a couple of steps back.

"How do they let you even _be_ in here? With us? Without warning us?"

The grimace of disgust was turning Mary's features into something different, something he did not recognised anymore.

And before he could do anything about it, she had opened the door and ran down the hall.

"Wait!"

It was too late.

Remus leaned on a desk feeling his eyes burn. He could not say if it was sadness or anger or shame, or perhaps a combination of the three of them; then he felt fear creeping over him as the scariest of thoughts occurred to him.

_Without warning us._

Warning them? She wouldn't!

What if she did? What if she was running down the castle right now, screaming at the top of her lungs what he really was? _Warning them_.

He could not stop her alone, he needed help. What sort of help? Dumbledore! No, he could not, he would want to know what had he told her and he would surely be angry with him for not keeping quiet about his conditions as he had been told to.

James? Sirius? Peter? What could they possibly do? Threaten her? That would only make things worse.

And then the brainwave struck. He took off his wand and tried hard to concentrate on a happy memory for his talking Patronus to form. He could not. He was way to hurt, way to miserable for the wisps of silver smoke to become solid. He needed to find her.

He was running down the corridor, through a tapestry, down hidden staircases, the cheering from the crowd down at the Quidditch Pitch was audible now. Mary could not have told anybody now, they were all busy, unless she had took hold of the microphone and hat yelled it for them all to hear that there was a werewolf among them.

She could not, they would not let her.

He had to reach Lily before Mary reached anybody. He was sure she would talk her out of telling anybody about him. They were friends!

The Gryffindors were sitting amongst the Ravenclaws, both Houses cheering against Slytherin. It was very difficult to distinguish anybody amongst the blue and silver crowd. What is she was not there? Remus was regretting not having the map with him, but there was no time for that now. He had to find Lily!

And then he saw her, her dark red hair partially covered with a grey hat.

Ignoring the shouts of protest from his companions and whatever was going on in the match he walked along aisles and finally got there.

"Lily!" he shouted into her ear. "I need your help, please!"

She did not stop to think, and if she regretted having to leave the Pitch, she did not show it in her features.

"Come with me!" he yelled unnecessarily. She was already walking to the exit.

A moment later they were outside the stands.

"What happened?"

Remus' throat was suddenly dry.

"I… I blew it, Lily."

"With Mary?" her look was both understanding and exasperated. "What did you do?"

"I told her… what I am."

"And what happened?" Her expression was suddenly unreadable.

He sighed.

"It… I don't know. She was scared, and she ran away saying something about warning the others…"

"She didn't!"

"She did, really,"

"Of course…" she said, her green eyes grew wider. "She would…"

Remus was feeling they were wasting time.

"What do we do now?"

Her jaw was suddenly set, and her hands in fists.

"Leave it to me," she said through clenched teeth, and without further ado she ran into the castle.

It was difficult to keep up with her but Remus managed. He tried to get some information from her but she would not answer his questions but just kept on running and climbing stairs, panting a little, until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"What makes you think she'd-"

"Wait here," she prompted, slightly out of breath, "I'll be back in a sec, all right?"

Of course it did not take her a sec, but many long minutes. He waited, pacing up and down the corridor, ignoring the Fat Lady's questions and remarks and wondering. Her being inside for this long could only mean that Mary was there too. Would Lily convince her to keep quiet? Shouldn't he be going to Dumbledore meanwhile and alert him? She had told him to wait but what if it was already too late and he was wasting precious time? What would happen if the whole school found out? He would have to leave, that was certain. Would he be able to have a job after dropping out school? Would his O.W.L.s be enough?

The portrait hole opened again and Lily came out, her cheeks bright red and looking as if she had kept on running.

"What happened? Did you talk to her?"

She looked at him and for a moment it was as if she was making up her mind about saying something or not.

"You could say so," she finally admitted.

"And?" How could she keep him waiting on edge like this?

She sighed.

"You don't have to worry. She won't tell a thing."

"Won't she?"

"No. And if I were you, I'd stay way away from her."

"Trust me, I will… but I think she would be the first one wanting to stay away from me! She was terrorised!"

Lily sighed again and started to walk. Remus stood in the spot for a moment before deciding to walk with her.

"I Obliviated her," she muttered so soft he thought he had not heard her right.

"You what?"

"I did it, all right? It was my entire fault," she kept on walking briskly and again Remus was feeling difficult to follow her in more than a sense. "I shouldn't have told you she fancied you and I shouldn't have encouraged her to talk to you either. I didn't know," she stopped abruptly and looked at him, her eyes pleading. "I'm so sorry, Remus. I didn't think! I didn't realise she would be… such an arse! You... you must be furious with me."

"With you? Of course not! How could you know… did you say you Obliviated her?"

Lily nodded.

"I know her. She would not have stayed quiet. I realised the moment I entered our room she was furious. She even tried to hex me! She told me I should have known and since I said I had no idea what was she talking about, she told me. You see? She _told_ me, Remus, and if it would not have been me but somebody else, she would have told them as well! There was no way I could have convinced her otherwise and besides it was too risky. Now she would not remember."

Remus had no idea what to say.

She started walking again.

"We better get to the Pitch before somebody notices we're missing."

"What if somebody asks her why she isn't dating me anymore?" he finally managed to say, trailing after her.

"She'll just say she doesn't fancy you… at least, I hope she would. I think I overdid it, maybe she'll just say she doesn't know what everybody's talking about… I'll just tell them not to ask her about it. I'll come up with something, don't worry about it."

He did not say a thing. Neither did she for a long moment.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, when they were crossing the gates, the cheering crowd was already vacating the Pitch.

He could honestly say he had no idea. He was just feeling too much, way too many unpleasant things all at once; the fear and revulsion in her eyes were burning in his skin, his own fear of being exposed, the immense disappointment in front of the whole situation, the realisation that James and the others had been mere exceptions and Mary was much more like the rule. That he was something people were afraid of and that was just the _normal _way to be.

He could not say any of this so instead, he just muttered, "thanks, Lily."


	21. He had been enjoying himself

April 1977

He had been enjoying himself almost as if he was still a small kid, practicing his first bits of magic. He was seventeen now, he had no longer the Trace. Even though he had sometimes broken that rule, the fact that he could now do whatever magic he wanted, that he was allowed, was thrilling.

Almost every day of the Easter Holidays, Remus had taken to walk into the nearby woods right at the back of his parents home and practice this or that, just ravelling on the fact that, except for the risk of Muggles seeing him, there was no reason why he should control himself or his magic. The fact that in this part of the woods there was rarely anybody was a strong reassurance.

But then, after a long walk, an odd feeling had started creeping on him and he was now concentrating on it and walking around, trying to understand what it was. All of a sudden, under the golden light of the afternoon, the woods seemed to be much more alive than usual. It felt almost like walking into the Forbidden Forest back at school.

This was not the first time it occurred to him to compare this place with the one at Hogwarts. Since he was little, he had loved to come to this place and just wander or sit and enjoy the apparent quietness. He very well knew it was not quiet at all, and all that hidden life, the sounds, the calling of animals gave Remus the feeling he was not the only, or maybe not even the most dangerous creature out there. Or at least, he was not the only one to be afraid of. He had always rather enjoyed that feeling.

Of course he knew he would not find a centaur or acromantulas in these woods but still, it was a wild atmosphere of sorts. It had always been like that and yet today… all of a sudden it felt different, much more intense.

Was it possible that his use of magic had disrupted the pace somehow? He had heard of places charged with timeless spells, dwellings that emit magic, sports where you could almost feel it. Here, though, he very much doubted he had performed that much or that powerful sort of incantations.

Remus spun around but there was nothing to see, just the tall trunks of the trees, brown death leaves left from the last Autumn, and some pools of snow that had not yet melted. Why did he feel the same way he did the moment before James or Sirius would jump from behind a tapestry to scare him as a prank? Maybe it was time for him to go home; he had walked for a long time, he would have to get moving anyway if he wanted to be there before nightfall.

The figure leaning on a tree just meters in front of him made him startle. It was a man, tall, with a broad back and shoulder-length, dirty grey hair and whiskers. Instinctively, Remus reached for the wand he had just placed on an inside pocket of his jacket.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, boy."

The man had a hoarse, raspy voice that remembered him of drunken men.

Maybe he was a homeless man. Maybe he lived in the woods. But then, what did he mean about not doing… had he seen him, Remus, do magic? Did he know Remus was a wizard? That he had been just about to-?

"I've been waitin' for a long time to come a pay you a visit, Remus."

"How do you know who I am?"

The man stood straight and gave a couple of steps in Remus' direction. There was something about him, about his yellowish eyes looking right into his that urged him to go away, to go back home. And yet he stood in the spot, waiting.

"You could say," the man was talking slowly, "that you owe it all to me." He stopped, right in front of Remus. "I am your creator, you see."

Maybe this man was unhinged. Unbalanced. A lunatic.

"I don't know what you mean."

The man laughed. It was a throaty sound and Remus got a whiff of his breath, putrid and rotten, and a glimpse of yellowish pointed teeth.

"Sure you don't know. That's why I'm here. To illuminate you."

Remus did not know what to say. His brain was desperately searching for a way to go; somehow he was sure this man would not let him just say goodbye and leave, and the broadness of his shoulders was something to take into consideration. Still, he was curious about this person. Why did he know him?

"My name," the man spoke again, "is Fenrir Greyback."

It looked as if this statement had been made to impress Remus, but he could not remember ever having heard the name.

The stranger was looking at him intently, and then he laughed for a second time. It was a cruel sound, almost like the growl of an animal.

"You don't know… they haven't told you!"

"Tell me what?" there was a sharp edge on Remus' voice now, he was getting impatient.

"Oh boy, I really love to be the one breaking the news. It makes more sense, you see? I have the feelin'… yeah, that way my job would be complete."

"What are you talking about?"

Greyback laughed again.

"I'm talkin' 'bout full moons, dear boy." Remus felt as if the blood on his veins had frozen. The stranger went on, "I'm talkin' 'bout a scar on your leg, with the shape of a half moon, and the reasons you have scars all over."

"How do you kno-?"

Greyback smiled, and pointed at his yellowish teeth.

"The wound has this shape, hasn't it, boy? A crescent?"

He laughed again. Remus tried to say something but he could not find the words. An immense fear inside him was growing and now he was not curious. He did not want to hear what this man wanted to tell him anymore.

"You see now," the man continued. "And I have to say," he started walking around Remus, looking up and down at him, "this was a fine job, a very fine job. You couldn't even tell there's something in you, that's gonna be useful."

Remus was still speechless.

"Bite them young, and raise them away from their parents, raise them among their equals, raise them to hate normal wizards; that's what I always say. With you I had to make an exception, you see. You were not goin' to join me then… but now that I see you, I think there are possibilities."

"D'you…" Remus' voice was hoarse and it felt as if it was coming from afar, "d'you mean you knew what you were doing? That night?"

Greyback cocked his head to one side, frowning.

"Wasn't it… an accident?" Remus continued.

As comprehension came, the man laughed again, this time much louder.

"An accident? Would I make accidents?" he managed to say between quivers, "no, boy, no accident."

It felt as if somebody had taken the floor from under his feet. He had always thought he had just had bad luck. That was what his mother and father had told him. Some werewolf had lost control, had made a mistake…

"I am very careful, you see," Greyback was talking again, the laughter had died. "I chose my victims carefully and place myself real close to them right before the full moon. Sometimes it's tricky, sometimes you don't get it right, sometimes Aurors get there first, sometimes you get carried away and the kid dies. But with you," he sneered, "it went so well with you. Right bite, right punishment."

"Punishment for what? What had I done to you? I was just a little boy!"

"I wasn't punishing you," Greyback said with a chortle. "It was your dad, your filthy human dad…"

Without thinking about it, without planning ahead, Remus launched forward and punched the man in the chest. Both lost balance and they felt into the ground. The smell of sweat and rotten meat was making it all confusing and yet Remus managed to aim a couple of punches on the man's body. It lasted less than a moment, and then Remus was lying, his back on the ground, Greyback sitting on his chest, his knees on Remus' elbows, preventing him to move.

The pain of the slaps on his face felt like nothing compared with the boiling rage he felt was filling up his insides.

And yet, Greyback was laughing again, that terrible growl that Remus was sure, had nothing to do with real amusement.

"Aggressive, that's good. That's always good. Still, you've much to learn. So, as I was sayin', yeah, I was punishing your old daddy."

Remus tried to free himself but he was sure it was useless; the man was too heavy and his hold way too strong.

"He offended me, you see. You don't offend me and just walk away. He offended me and _our_ kind, Remus, in that filthy journal of his. 'Don't like werewolves?' I thought, 'how about having your own at home?' Bet he thought more than twice before publishing anythin' after that, don't you think?"

Remus was not fighting anymore; he was laying perfectly still, half listening, half racking his brains, trying to remember _that_ night, the days after that, even the days before that. He could not make anything out the confusion of images.

"It's just natural for us to hate them, you see, they hate us first. You've notice, surely. They look down at you, with disgust, with contempt." Without being able to prevent it, Mary's expression when she found out what he was filled his mind. Greyback seemed to notice the change in his expression. "You know, you've felt it. Even if you're allowed to be with humans, you know that's only because they don't know what you are. That's the way the world works, their world. But, Remus, we have our own world to built."

With a jump, the man stood up. Although he was free, Remus could not move.

"Now you're of age. I want you to join me, to join us, your kind."

Greyback reached out a hand with yellowish fingernails covered in blood. Remus did not take it.

"Come on, I say, you belong to us. You wouldn't have to hide anymore, you wouldn't have to pretend."

The images and memories kept on racing inside his mind: his father, and the way he often would not meet his eyes; his mother, always caring about him and apparently making no distinctions but actually worrying; Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey, urging him to be careful, to not let anybody know, to hide what he was; was it possible that this man standing in front of him was the only one who understood?

And then he remembered Sirius, tacking him down and preventing him to run away; James and Peter catching up, the three of them convincing him it was all right, that he was normal; Lily, laughing about him being so worried and helping him out; how was it possible for all those things to coexist at once?

And what was this man saying? Living with them? With others just like him? Not having to hide? Not having to fear he would hurt others? He was a punishment, he had been made to punish, and he was rotten, just as Greyback.

"I'll come for you in a couple of years then," Greyback said as if he was voicing the conclusion to an internal debate. "You keep learning that magic of yours; you're getting pretty good at it. You'll be useful; you'll have your proper place."

And without another word, the man took out a large dirty wand, spun around and Disapparated.

* * *

The burning in his face, the pain in his knees and chest, his uneven breaths, Remus was ignoring it all, running right towards the tiny golden light that were finally visible amongst the tree trunks. It was no happiness he felt at the sight, though, not relief. The boiling anger was back and he felt he was strong enough to destroy the tress if he had too.

What felt as an instant moment later he was at the kitchen door; he opened it with a loud bang.

"Remus, were had you been?" her mother spun around and looked at him, pale and wide-eyed. "What happened to your face?"

"Why haven't you told me the truth?" his voice was calm, but still ringing with that enormous amount of energy.

"What do you-?"

"The truth!" he roared, "about me! About my bite! About me being a punishment!"

"What's happening in here," his father entered the kitchen. "How you dare speak to your mother like that?"

"I know it all, all right? I know about Fenrir Greyback! I know what you did!"

It came as a shock both the thought and the fact it had been so obvious all along.

"It's because of you that I am like this," Remus said, his voice low and hoarse again, pointing a long finger at his father. "You couldn't keep quiet, could you? You had to write whatever came into your mind? You had to offend _him_? It's because of you I'm an outcast, I would never be normal."

"Remus, you know that's not true," his mother said, almost pleading.

"I know it is! It's you who doesn't know! You don't know what it's like to be like this! To be me! To be feared, to have people looking at you with contempt and fear and disgust! And all because of you!" he pointed at his father again. He was not saying a word, but looking at the wooden floor.

"At least look at me! Look at your punishment! At this dark creature you're responsible for! Tell me the truth, tell me how it happened, and tell me you couldn't have helped it. Tell me you did everything you could to prevent this from happening."

His father did not move, and for a long moment there was a ringing silence. Amongst the fury and pain, Remus felt inexplicably victorious, still very strong. They had no idea, he was showing them, he would make them give him the answers.

"Remus, you're not a punishment," her mother spoke softly, but with a ringing fury he had hardly ever heard in her, but in his own voice. It felt much stronger than Greyback's hit back in the woods. "Don't you dare thinking about you that way."

"There is no much I can think about myself, can I?" he sneered. "Society thinks plenty of stuff already."

For the second time that evening he acted without thinking or planning; Remus spun around and almost jumped through the kitchen door and into the back yard of his parent's house. He was running again, with no idea of where to go.

* * *

**AN: I'm very very sorry for the long delay. Sometime real life can get a little demanding. Thank you very much for all your support! Cheers!**


	22. Running for what felt like ages

Remus had been running for what felt like ages, he had gone through the village near his parents' house, ignoring the Muggles and the inviting lights of the pub, and now the last houses were far behind. He was very tired and without a clue of what to do next.

It was cold, he was noticing it now; he needed to find some place to rest, somewhere quiet where he could think. He could go back home, of course, but he did not want to. Not now, at least. Remorse was starting to creep over him, he had said a handful of things he probably should not have; still, his anger, his indignation, and above it all, the need of knowing what had actually happen were too strong. Had it been true everything that man Greyback had said to him? Was he a punishment? Why had not his father told him all of this before?

However, before even start to answer all these he had to find somewhere to stay. The idea had been forming in his head for a while now; he was just lacking some determination. It was an idea that provided both shelter and somebody to discuss this. How was he going to show up out of the blue and just knock at his friend's door, asking for a place to stay?

But he had to. It was that or going back.

Sirius was out of the question. He had heard enough of his family to know they were not even particularly happy with his own son; Remus very much doubted they would be thrilled to have an extra guest. Peter had never really spoken about his parents, it did not feel right to just go and knock. Then Remus remembered both Sirius and Peter had stayed at school for the holidays. He could go back as well, but he had no idea how the staff would react if he would just show up there in the middle of the night. Would the Knight Bus even take him there? Let alone the fact that his trunk and books were still at his parents' house.

No matter how thoroughly he thought about it, Remus had his answer already. The logical place was James'. He had gone home for the holidays as well, and for all he had heard, it seemed that his family was all right. Finally making up his mind, Remus raised his wand arm. He should better hurry up. It was getting late, his being there would be much more awkward the later he arrived.

* * *

He had been received almost as if it was normal for anybody to show up, slightly wounded, dishevelled and dirty, in an unknown doorstep. James mother had fed him, he had had a chance to tidy up a bit, and most important of all, he had been invited to stay for the night. They had even let him use an owl so he could tell his parents he was all right. At the beginning Remus had not thought much of the idea, but Mrs. Potter had been right. There was no point of worrying them any further.

Now, sitting on a mattress on James' bedroom he had to admit coming here had been a very fine idea.

"This is not the first time, you know?" James said, handing him a tartan quilt.

"What do you mean?"

"Sirius came by a couple of times last summer. He has it very rough at home… don't tell him I told you this, all right? So he showed up about two weeks into the holidays. It was almost midnight, he got us all frighten. And he was… well, not right. So Mum took him in and he stayed for a while."

"She must think you only make friends with disturbed people, your Mum" Remus said darkly.

"Nah. We're glad to help."

He just smiled at him. "Thanks."

James took a sit in front of him on the mattress, resting his head on his bed.

"So, are you gonna tell me what happened?"

He knew he would have to, he had even wanted to talk to somebody about all this, and now… shame and guilt were taking over all other emotion and Remus did not know how to explain it all.

"I need to know all about the night I was bitten," he blurted.

If James was surprised he did not show it.

"Didn't you know all about it already?"

"Apparently no," Remus shook his head, looking at his lap. "I… I met somebody today. This man… he was a werewolf. He told me he had been the one who bite me, right? And he told me a bunch of things, about my parents, about me, and now I don't know what to believe. I… I was so confused I yelled at them. At my parents. That's why I run, I needed to think." He looked up at James. "I have to know the truth… I just have to."

"And what do you want to do?"

"Dunno… I want to think, to remember. Maybe talk to people who knew about the incident. The problem is," he chuckled darkly, "every friend my parents had back then just sort of disappeared after what happened."

"How old were you?"

"Almost five."

"You have to remember something, Moony. You weren't that small." James said.

"But I do! I remember heaps of things but they all… just get mixed up together, I can't say which one happened when."

James frowned in concentration.

"All right, then. What do you _know_? For a fact I mean, not the stuff that you're not sure about."

He had read so much about werewolves and yet how difficult it now was to recall it all.

"Well, you get bitten. I mean, the werewolf bites somebody, and that person, if he or she survives, becomes a werewolf as well."

James nodded.

"So, I know I've been bitten." Remus frowned, trying to remember, but all he could recall was the pain on his leg. He needed to think about something else. "This person was called Fenrir Greyback. He says he's the one who did it."

"That's odd, isn't it? I mean, how does he remember? Usually you don't remember a thing after the full moon, we have to fill you in, right?"

He had a fair point.

"I don't know why. But yeah, that's odd. I don't remember a thing and yet this person even knew where my wound was."

Both stayed silent for a moment, deep in thought.

"Isn't there like a registration something?" James finally asked.

"Oh, yeah, the Werewolf Regulation Office. I hate the place. We're supposed to go every year, they update my profile every time. It's like having a criminal record."

James ignored that part.

"And couldn't we go in there and check out that Greyback person?"

"No we can't. It's strictly confidential," Remus shook his head and gave a hollow laugh. "It's the only small service they give us at the Ministry. They keep our identities in secret unless we do something bad. Only Aurors can see those files."

"Why Aurors?"

"They're in charge of misbehaved werewolves. We're no regular criminals, we're the dangerous kind."

"I'd appreciate," James' voice was suddenly cold, "if you'd stop talking about this as 'we'. You've done nothing as far as I know. So no, you're not a regular criminal."

There were hundred possible retorts to that statement, but Remus did not say one. A new idea was forming on his head.

"They come over, the Aurors," he muttered slowly. "Whenever a kid gets bitten, they send an Auror over to check on him and his or her parents."

"Yeah, you're right. I've read about it."

"Yeah… except, not always. Sometimes the parents keep the whole thing hidden. Still it is very difficult to hide a werewolf, especially if you don't know what to do with it. So, what usually happens is that the parents try to get rid of the new werewolf. That's where the Aurors come in handy; they find a place for him or her."

James eyes were wide open.

"Do parents actually get rid of their kids?"

Remus snorted.

"Yeah…" suddenly he felt ashamed again. His parents had not got rid of him; they had done almost everything possible to try and make him better.

"So, who was your Auror?" James asked, interrupting his gloomy train of thoughts.

He had to focus again on the very confusing memories of that night. There was his mother, taking care of his wounds, but that's something she had always done after every full moon. How could he be sure that his memories were from that particular night?

"Wait," James suddenly said, and without another word, he exited the room.

A moment later he was back, with a leather-bound small book on his hands.

"This is the list of all Aurors of this and the last century," he said.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"And did you just happened to have this in your house?" he said, taking the book from James hands and starting flipping over the pages.

"I'll be one of them one day. I just want to know all about them," he said matter-of-factly. "You just have to find the exact year and see which Aurors worked back then," he continued. "See if any name rings a bell."

Without another word Remus went straight to 1965. The list was not as long as it was in the most recent years. It must have been a much peaceful time back then. He scanned the names, muttering them softly, trying to squeeze his brain for an answer.

When it finally came, he knew he had known this person all along.

"Alastor Moody," he said, looking at James with bright eyes.

* * *

"Go on, then," James gave him a little push in the back, but Remus did not move.

"Dunno," he said, shuffling his feet and looking at the house in front of them. "It's really early. What if he's asleep?"

"He's supposed to go to work, right? He won't be." James gave him another push and this time Remus started walking, his hand clutching his wand on his pocket, taking in his surroundings.

What should have been the front yard was just dirt and a handful of death little trees. Even the house had the air of being abandoned.

"What if this is not the place?" Remus whispered. He did not why, but somehow talking aloud seemed inappropriate for the circumstance.

"Then, we'll apologise and we'll go back to look for him." Despite his reassurance, James was whispering as well.

They were right in front of the door; Remus raised his fist bur before he could touch the wooden surface, the door swung open and the next thing he knew, the tip of a wand was pointing right between his eyes.

"Don't move," the man spoke with a harsh voice.

Now he remembered him. Many years ago in the Apothecary in Diagon Alley, the very strange looking man who had asked for his help. This was Alastor Moody, 'Mad-Eye' Moody. One of his eyes was looking directly at him, the other one at James. Suddenly, Remus also remembered Dumbledore talking about this person, as passing. When had that been?

"Excuse us, sir," James was saying over Remus' shoulder. We only wanted-"

"Remus Lupin," Moody said, ignoring him.

Remus nodded. "That's me, sir. And… and this is James Potter."

For a long moment Moody did not say a thing but stared at the two of them, his electric blue eye moving so fast Remus felt a little revolted.

"Come on in, then," he finally grunted, still pointing his wand at them.

It was an almost bare room, with just one old couch and some wooden chairs. Remus did not know if he should sit, so he stood in the centre of the room, James at his side. Moody was still looking at them, the grip on his wand somewhat a little relaxed.

"Would you…" Remus started. There was no way he would be able to focus on what he had to ask with an Auror pointing a wand at him. "Do you mind not directing your… erm… wand…"

Moody looked at his hand as if he had just realised what was on it. Without a word, he stuffed it in an inside pocket of his cloak.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," Remus continued. "But I wandered if you could tell us something about my past."

The words sounded silly even to himself. Alastor Moody did not seem to think that way, for he took a sit on one of the chairs and pointed at the sofa with a much scarred hand. Exchanging just a brief glimpse, Remus and James sat down.

"What d'you wanna know?" Moody asked.

Remus' first question was the easiest.

"You were there, didn't you? The night I was bitten? That's why my mother recognised you that time at the Apothecary." Memories were now flooding in; he could describe the scene almost as if it had been yesterday. Why had it been so difficult for him to remember before?

"It was me. I got summoned, we had a tip off some werewolf was going to attack John Lupin's son. That's you, of course. Only, it wasn't true. You'd been already attacked by the time we got the message and it was much too late."

"Who gave you the tip off?" James asked.

For a moment Moody looked at him intently and out of the corner of his eye, Remus could see James swallow with difficulty. Still, the Auror spoke and it did not seem to be anger in his voice.

"Another werewolf," he said. For a moment it looked as if he was fighting some internal battle of wills. While his black eye was fixed on the floor, the electric blue one was looking at the ceiling, at the floor and even inside Moody's own skull. Then, he spoke again. "Of all places, why've you come here, lad?"

Remus swallowed with difficulty.

"I need to know the truth," he muttered. "And I haven't got it from my parents."

"All right," Moody said after a moment, "but why now?"

"Because I think I've met him, the one who bite me. He said so at least. And he also said he'd come after me."

Moody's both eyes were looking at him again.

"Who've you met?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

The Auror's face did not show a thing; he just kept on looking at him for a long while.

"Was he telling the truth? Is he the one who bit me? And if that's so, why does he remember?" Remus blurted, suddenly impatient again. "Aren't werewolves supposed to forget it all when they're back human?"

"Haven't it occurred to you, lad, that the truth could be terrible and that's why you haven't been told yet?"

Remus tried to sound reassuring when he spoke again.

"I know it must be terrible. But I'm of age now. I've seen how it us to us werewolves-"

"No, you haven't," Mood snapped and the harshness of his voice made Remus recoil a little. "You've been kept safe; you've been treated like a normal wizard! The fact that Potter here is willing to be in your presence," he pointed at his friend with a crooked finger, "the fact that you have friends is something werewolves rarely know. You have no idea how uncommon your situation is."

Remus leaned forward at once.

"That doesn't change anything. That man, Greyback, told me he wants me to join him. He'll come after me, I don't know when. I just know that the next time I meet him, I don't want to be caught off guard. I want to know it all so I could give him an answer."

"And what about Potter? Don't you care that he'll hear it too?"

It was unnerving the way this man was ignoring James, and yet he was not speaking. The usual cheek he displayed with teachers and older students was gone, replaced by some awed respect Remus had never seen in his friend.

"He can hear it all. I'd tell him anyway," he was not as certain as he sounded, but now it was too late to think about that. Other things were much more important.

Moody sighed.

"All right, I'll tell you," he took a flask from a pocket on his cloak and took a large sip.


	23. You need to understand

"You need to understand how different your situation has been so far from what you'd expect from other werewolves. You're different."

"I always knew he was," James interjected.

Moody glared at him for a long moment and Remus could have sworn James was regretting having opened his mouth at all. Both eyes fixed on him, his jaw set and his scarred brow frowned, the Auror was scary.

"But," Moody continued, "the origins of a werewolf are more or less always the same. There has to be another werewolf, and that other werewolf has to bite the new one. I expect you knew this."

Remus just nodded, his eyes fixed on his.

"It doesn't always work; most of the times the werewolf loses control and just kills his or her victim. Yeah," he added, looking again at James who had made the softest of sounds, "there are female werewolves."

After a long pause, he continued. "When we're lucky and we get there on time, we can prevent it to happen. Sometimes we know when a pack's near an area and we can alert the people living there. Some other times, and that's what almost happened to you, somebody informs us. Almost. The problem with you was that we got the message too late. When I came to your house, you'd already been bitten."

Caught up with the story, Remus had almost forgotten they were talking about him. Even though what Mood was saying was almost exactly what the werewolf in the woods had told him, the rough way the Auror explained all these facts in a matter-of-factly sort of way, without the hatred and maniac laughter of Greyback, made it all much more impressive.

"He was right," Moody continued, almost as if he had just read Remus' mind, "Greyback." The way he said the name made it sound like an insult. "He's the one who bit you. Usually we can't tell, 'cause when we get there the werewolf is gone, or transformed. That's why we keep the Werewolf Records. We have there the description of the individuals both as humans and as beasts. Sometimes we catch them even when they're human again."

Remus thought that maybe he should feel hurt for being addressed as 'beast' but he knew it would be silly. Besides, after a lifetime of experiences, his latest encounter with Greyback and everything Moody was telling him, the word beast was probably the most accurate to describe what a werewolf on a full moon was.

"How do you know it was Greyback, then?" he asked.

"Because he told us so."

"What?" James prompted. "Did he blame himself?"

This time Moody did not seem to be angry with the interruption.

"Greyback's something different. Rules don't apply to him. He's made his mission in life to try and infect as many as possible. He's resented, you see? With everything he is and everything he can't be. So, he wants his pack to be an army, he wants to overrule wizards."

There was a ringing silence. Remus' mind flooded with images of several werewolves running with an aim, their path illuminated by the light of the full moon, getting into a village, savaging the people there and waiting for the next day to introduce them to the pack. It was both scary and fascinating.

"And what is he planning to do if he succeeds?" James was asking.

"I don't think he has a plan, not really. He just wants his revenge."

"But how can he remember he had bitten me? Or anybody?" Remus asked.

"I've told you he's different from any other werewolf, from anything else, really. Fenrir Greyback thinks carefully about his preys, he chooses them, he studies them, and on the full moon, he places himself near his prey and waits for the transformation. When it happens, he just attacks whoever was closest. Most of the time, he succeeds."

"And can't… can't you just… catch him?" Remus did not want to sound disrespectful, but he was very curious.

"We can't always catch everybody." Moody shook his head. "Merlin knows we've tried with that one."

Everything the Auror had said so far was reasonable; logical even. But still, he had not answer Remus' most pressing question.

"He said I was a punishment," he blurted.

Moody's face was expressionless; he seemed lost in thought.

"I _am_ a punishment, right? He bit me to punish my family."

The Auror shifted a bit in his chair, carefully placing his wooden leg on a low bench beside it.

"You're one of the times when he got it… right… so to speak." His voice was flat, and both eyes were looking right into Remus'. Uncomfortable as it was, he did not look away. "You were his chosen target, and he'd a good reason to get to you… from his point of view."

James opened his mouth, it seemed as if he wanted to say something, but Remus nudged him on the ribs. Finally it seemed they were reaching the point.

"Your father used to write a lot back then when you were little," Moody continued. "He worked for several papers on editorials and such. At that time there was this scandal of sorts: werewolves were taking money from people, threatening them to bite their kids if they didn't do what they were told."

It was as if somebody was telling about something as distant as Professor Binn's History of Magic classes. It all seemed so old and yet it was as if Remus had known it all along.

"Somehow the story came out and your father was one amongst the many outraged who wanted to do something about it. So he wrote this article… he was urging the threatened people to speak up."

Remus could see the situation perfectly, the indignation, the need to do something about it… not only about werewolves but about anything as wrong as what Moody was telling them about.

"So, Greyback got angry… and he got me…" he said hoarsely.

"Not then, no," Moody said, taking another sip from his flask. "After that first article, Greyback went for your father first and he did what the others had done: he threatened him; he said he would get you if he kept on writing that sort of things.

He, your dad, told me back then that he felt he'd to set an example," Moody chuckled dryly. "The fool! There's no logic when dealing with werewolves, least of all with that one! So he did exactly what he had urged everybody to do: he wrote another article about how it all was just an empty threat."

"He what?" James asked softly.

"He said he thought nothing could happen. He actually wrote on that article Greyback was nothing to be afraid of, that he worked only with such empty threats but that at the end nothing would happen. I remember reading the thing back then and thinking he must've been out of his mind. But he wasn't a complete stupid; still, he asked the Ministry to place a couple of Hit-Wizards near your place," he nodded at Remus, "for the next full moons."

"But Greyback waited," Remus' voice was expressionless; he was feeling quite empty.

Alastor Moody nodded.

"He waited for three months to get you. And he arranged for us to be summoned right afterwards."

"Why?" James asked again.

Moody grimaced.

"He wanted to be sure your father wouldn't hide you. Once a werewolf bite is known, we have to report you. I got sent to your place, only I arrived an hour too late, just as he intended it to be."

For a long moment nobody spoke. Remus' gaze was focused on the wooden floor but he was looking far beyond it, into another time. There was something so detached from him in the Auror's story and yet Remus could imagine it all is if he had finally reached his own recollections. His father, quiet, thoughtful, did not seem to be the type of wanting to face that sort of things; unlike him, Remus, he did not seem to be the type for speaking up… but then there was the image… or was it a memory? … of a man… tall, serious, a man of action, his father.

Suddenly Remus realised, by biting him, Greyback has not only taken away part of John Lupin's son, he had taken away part of him as well.

And he could not help to feel proud. Maybe… maybe he was not just a punishment. Maybe he was more like a trophy of sorts. The living proof that his father had once had the courage to stand up to what was unfair.

"And now he has come to fetch you," Moody's voice almost made him startle.

He looked up again.

"He said he'll be back."

"He _will_ be back. We'd though he'll leave you alone. He wouldn't claim you because you were just meant to be a punishment. But after what you've told me, it's obvious he'd just seen what an advantage for his pack you'd be. He wants you all right."

"But why Remus? And why now?" James asked again.

"You haven't seen a werewolf in your life, I bet. They don't look at all like him. He… Merlin, even I couldn't tell he's one, if I didn't know him."

"And can you tell with the others?"

"Mostly," Moody nodded, "you see, they're outlaws most of the time. I think Remus here is the only werewolf ever attending school… I darn well know he is! I was the one who suggested it; it wasn't exactly easy to make some of the staff to agree to that idea at the beginning."

Suddenly a memory seemed to hit Remus skull.

"That's what Dumbledore said," he whispered, "the night he came by to tell me I was going to Hogwarts?"

"He told you the staff didn't want you there?" there was incredulity in Moody's voice.

"No, he told me it had been you… the one suggesting I could go to school… but why?"

Remus tried to read in the scarred face of the Auror any expression, the shadow of an emotion, something that would tell him why he had been marked as different among the other werewolves.

"'Cause getting hairy once a month won't prevent you to wave your wand properly. All prejudice is wrong and sometimes you get a chance to make it right."

He did not know what to answer. It felt awkward and he looked at the floor again.

"So, other werewolves," Moody continued, apparently eager to move back to facts and away from feelings, "when they're bitten after finishing school, most of them have trouble to fit into society again. There is, of course, resentment, and anger. There are also regulations, laws made by dim-witted people, that make it difficult for them to get jobs… and, of course, there is always that old prejudice, so people would usually run from them. That's when they chose to join a pack. So now, you can see why Greyback is so interested in you."

"He blends in," James said.

"Yeah, he does. You could get real close to your intended victim… you could even get invited to dinner into the house! And you're almost completely trained. Well taught and working for him, you could be very powerful."

It could have been the harsh, casual way in which the Auror was speaking, or maybe the images that were flicking though his head; Remus jerked up his head quickly and looked back at Moody.

"And yet, he didn't want that when he bit me."

"Times have changed now," Moody grunted, "it's not just biting as much people as they can anymore. Greyback is being much more careful about the people he chooses, he has other plans… you're a better asset now that he's wanting to join the Death Eaters."

It was as if they had suddenly stepped into a completely different place.

"You mean that… that Dark Lord followers?" James asked. "What do they have to do with them?"

"They have everything to do with everything that's going on these days? Haven't you notice inside that school of yours? I'd never understand why the Ministry's always keen to keep people in the dark. Death Eaters, they're dangerous, and lately they're everywhere. Constant vigilance! That's what I keep telling them, and how are you supposed to be vigilant if you don't even know what's out there?"

"And this Greyback is one of them? One of the Death Eaters?" Remus asked.

"I don't think so, not yet. But he wants to. That 'Dark Lord', that Voldemort," Moody practically sneered, "can offer them many things if he succeeds on getting to power. Greyback has a little to lose and a lot to win."

"And he'd try to use me."

"That's why I told you this. You need to be prepared, both of you, and every kid at that school, and every wizard out there. Something big and nasty is coming, you mark my words… and so far nothing we do seem to be working.

Moody stood up and walked to the door. Remus and James followed his lead.

"Now," the Auror continued, "the question you've got to ask yourself is where do you thing you belong. I've told you the facts; that's the past you wanted to know. Now's up to you, isn't it?"

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot for reading (and reviewing!) and being so patient! **

**Special thanks to tt crews, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, QueenCobraWing, login password, Louey06, NeverBeenDarkMarked and ludmilla! You people are great!**


	24. The Order of the Phoenix

_July – August 1978_

The Order of the Phoenix

Just the sound of the words, wrapped up together like that, seemed to be enough to send a thrill down his spine. Of course it was the sort of thrill he could not tell anybody about, not even James or the others. He was not supposed to feel thrilled at all. There were plenty on things at stake, human lives, battles, reality at its crudest… The seldom dissapearances of the las few years had become much frequent now and the Daily Prophet was heavily loaded with bad news every morning. Remus knew that, of course. All of them were all but too aware of the facts and what was at stake… but there was also this feeling…

Remus took out his wand and twirled it around his fingers, almost as if he could anticipate what it was capable of, what they were capable of, he and that wooden stick that was so much more than that.

"_Should we knock?" Peter asked feebly, looking at the severe-looking gargoyle_.

"_What d'you want to knock on?" Sirius sneered, "the stone wall?"_

"_Are you absolutely sure this is the place, Moony?"_

_Remus nodded. "It's the place, but I've told you, we need a password. The last time I came here he let me in, but he said something I couldn't catch."_

"_We wait, then," Lily said, sitting on the corridor floor right in front of the gargoyle. "He will have to come out eventually, right?"_

_James sat next to her without a word. Even though nobody said anything, it was clear to Remus they all were glad they had stopped quarrelling about her coming along with them or not. James was stubborn but Lily seemed to be equally so._

_It seemed foolish to spend their very last day at school of their lives sitting inside on the cold stone floor, just waiting. Silently, though, they had all decided it was well worth it._

He needed to get going, of course. The place where he has been tasked to go by that Order of the Phoenix he was part of was not nearby, and he did not want to be late. It was odd enough to be one of the youngest, making a late appearance would not help.

"_What makes you think, miss Evans, that I am the right person to come to with your request?" Dumbledore asked, piercing each one of them with his gaze, from his chair behind the desk. "I'd say the Law Enforcement Squad would be the logical choice? Haven't you thought about applying there?"_

"_We have, Sir, but we don't think it's the same…" Lily started._

"_We'll join the Aurors, sir," James spoke, "at least, some of us will;" he gave Peter a furtive glance, "but it is a training programme, it will take us long to be ready to fight. And as things go, we want to start training and fighting right away. What's happening now… you can read it almost every day on the 'Prophet', people disappearing, getting killed, and those Death Eaters on top of everything. Nobody's safe, right? But it's not a matter of being safe anymore, it's about doing something about it, and I think we could."_

"_Oh, about that I am sure," Dumbledore said, "but why coming to me?"_

_Remus bit his lip, he wondered for an instant if he would dare saying it. His voice seemed to make its mind before him._

"_You're a friend of Alastor Moody, sir, and we think he's fighting too. Before trying to reach him, we thought we could talk to you."_

_Dumbledore looked at the tips of his own fingers for a long moment. At his back, Remus felt somebody nudging him, but he did not move._

The Longbottoms house was a nice cottage on the outskirts of a small village, not at all what he would have expected from a couple of Aurors. Remus had had to walk for a while before reaching the place but he did not mind. It was giving him a perfect excuse to keep his thoughts at bay and adopt the adequate seriousness for the task.

He looked at the thin handwriting on the parchment he was clutching on his hand to be sure, for the tenth time, that this was indeed the place.

Taking a deep, calming breath, he knocked twice on the whitewashed door.

"_Alastor Moody," Dumbledore muttered. "I do wonder," he looked at them again, "if you know what fighting really mean?"_

_Sirius opened his mouth, but he did not seem to find the right words, so he closed it again._

"_But must important, what are the reasons that move you to fight?" Dumbledore continued. "It's not an assignment, it's not homework, it usually implies changing ways of living and putting oneself in danger once and again. And above it all, fighting a cause would put you in situations in which you will have to chose between things that should not be options."_

_The Headmaster rose up from his chair and approached them._

"_You say you want to fight. Before we discuss that possibility, though, and if you forgive me for being so bold, I would like to know your reasons."_

"I don't know…" Auror Longbottom was looking fixedly at him, "I will do it, of course, but I don't get why we're having such young folks joining the crowd."

He waved his wand hand and Remus could see it was deeply scarred. He had done some background research on the people in front of him; they were not just Aurors. The Longbottoms had the reputation of being among the toughest of their group and James had said they had even faced Voldemort himself once and survived to tell the tale.

Of course, none of it would make it any easier for Remus.

"He's not much younger than us, isn't he?" his wife asked. "How old are you, boy?"

"I'm eighteen," _and a little annoyed with you, to be honest_, he thought before he could help it. It was indeed a bit humiliating to be scrutinised like that.

Why had not he been lucky enough to get assigned to Alastor Moody like Lily had? He might have been a bit more understanding. How was it possible that every wild dream, every silly thought, every thrill of emotion had been melted away with the Longbottoms less than warm welcome? Maybe it was because he was used to emotions getting crashed, maybe just because they seemed to be enjoying the sinking of his spirits.

"He's barely of age," Frank Longbottom stated, pacing the room.

"I'm old enough to get into the Auror Training Programme."

"In the Programme they wouldn't send you on the field until your second year at least! And always with backup!"

Remus did not say a thing and focused on holding both Aurors' gazes in turn.

"I know this war is getting out of control," the Auror continued, "but I don't think putting kids into fight would do anybody any good. How are we to focus on the targets if we'd be concerned on keeping an eye on you lot?"

"I don't need anybody to keep an eye on me… sir."

"That's not for you to decide! I'll worry! Alice as well! And there's nothing you could do to prevent us from worrying. There's no good fighting when you're thinking about something else. It has coasted us years of training learning to fight side by side and continuing doing so even if we see the other one fall! Honestly, boy, I don't know what Dumbledore's thinking."

"Train me, then," Remus said. "Train me, just as Dumbledore said, and make me as good as fighter as possible, so you won't have to worry about me."

"Of course I'll train you, I've already told you that. Those are my orders, right? But still, I think kids your age should be thinking about studying or getting a job… and a girlfriend and… I don't know, a future."

"_My family is Muggle," Lily was the first one speaking. "If the Death Eaters get their way, they will not only get me, because I'm a Muggleborn, they will probably try to get them. I'm not the only one with the same situation. I just can't stand and look how Muggles and Muggleborns are being killed."_

"Except that, I don't have a future, sir," Remus squared his shoulders and looked straight into Auror Longbottom's round brown eyes, "I'm doomed from the start. So here you'll have a fighter who'll give it all in a struggle, because he has nothing to lose."

Both Longbottoms looked at him for a long moment.

"Being a werewolf doesn't take away your future, you know," Alice finally said.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but I do know, as a matter of fact. So, yeah, it does take away my future. I won't have a job, or a family… not even a girlfriend. The only hope I have here is this war, I have to be on the winning side and claim for a normal place in society. I can't have that place as it is, but… but maybe if we win, I'll get my chance then."

Frank Longbottom looked at his wife and Remus could almost feel they were communicating silently.

After what felt like a long time, both nodded.

"Draw you wand, boy."

Remus did as he was told.

"You've proven your point," Frank Longbottom said with a heavy sigh. "I'll train you now, not just because Dumbledore told me to do it, but because you're ready.

Without another word, he stood up and walked towards a closed door.

"Thank you, sir," Remus stood up as well and followed his new master.

* * *

The letter was succinct.

_They haven't even want to spend too much ink or parchment on a werewolf,_ was Remus' first thought.

He did not need to read it: he had known, from the moment he had sent his application form, nothing good would come from it. Once again, he had listened to Lily's advice, and once again, it had proven to be terribly bad advice.

It was not her fault not realising how thinks actually were. Or maybe it was her fault, maybe she should not be that naïve, thinking always the best from everybody. Certainly it was his, Remus' fault, he certainly knew better.

His eyes scanned the first words on the piece of parchment: Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Training Programme, Ministry of Magic.

He could see the next three words out of the corner of his eyes, even though he did not want to: Dear Mr. Lupin.

_What's the point of using the word 'Dear' anyway?_

He forced himself to read further. All those years of reading in hiding on his father's library, always fast, fearing somebody would catch him, had trained Remus on finding the important words only at once.

"We very much regret… you unclear condition… we shall not be welcoming you to our Training Program…"

"Your unclear condition," Remus whispered.

There was nothing else, no further explanation, but Remus did not need one. He could kid himself thinking that is had been his poor grades in Potions that had made the committee decide he was not good enough to be an Auror. Now he knew that hadn't been it. The unclear condition the letter was talking about was his much too clear condition of being a werewolf. If he was a Beast or a Being was not important after all. He was bad news for every member of every team in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

_If I had known I would be rejected, would I behaved different with the Longbottoms?_ Although irrelevant, Remus thought about it for a moment. No, he would have not. Deep down, he always had known how this would turn out to be.

His hand closed in a tight fist, clutching the parchment on it. A second later, blue flames had erupted from his palm, burning the letter into ashes in no time.

_It would have been no different. I knew I wouldn't get accepted. I knew I was to be the one left behind._

In his mind eye, he could picture James and Sirius, maybe together, with small notes on their hands. Just the time and place for their interviews and tests. No rejections, no explanations, just what was natural for two talented wizards who had achieved so many N.E.W.T.S. And they would go into the Training Program while being members of the Order of the Phoenix… both of them, and Peter, and Lily, they would all get to have a life.

Was he asking too much? It was something so basic really, so elemental, to have a life, to have prospects, and a job, and a girl. He had been banned from such basic things from the moment Greyback decided to bite him.

What he had told the Longbottoms had been almost a premonition.

Now he had no future, no expectations, nothing to look forward except the fight and maybe the end of the war and the beginning of a new world.

Remus lowered his head, looking at the handful of ashes on his palm. He gave it a little shake and it floated away in a small cloud of dust.

It was a good thing he had his training sessions with Frank Longbottom to look forward too. It was the only real thing in his life now.

* * *

**AN: A little jump in time... I guess it's time for Remus to get some real action. **

**Thanks a lot to all of you, readers and reviewers alike! You people make my day (especially the last ones)!**

**Cheers!**


	25. They were not seeing much of each other

The fact that James and Sirius were more than excited about the Training Programme they had just joined was obvious. They were trying hard not to show it, though, and Remus was grateful. He suspected, though, that it was Lily the one he ought to thank. He would never have taken the two of them as terribly sympathetic before.

They were not seeing much of each other anyway, mostly because all of them expended most of their time training in different places. And yet, although Remus missed his school friends, a part of him was glad they were not around that much. It was getting more and more difficult each time to keep his bitterness at bay, when thinking about what everybody else was doing, which was for one reason or another, forbidden to him.

His training sessions were good, though. After his initial misgivings, Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife had taking the matter of his training quite seriously; they were too needed inside the Auror Department to dedicate him much time, but he had been introduced to another member of the Order, Dorcas Meadowes, who had been partially trained by the Longbottoms some time ago.

All of this had to be made in strict silence, and that had been the first thing Dumbledore had wanted to make clear to everybody. Since the Order of the Phoenix was seeing almost as a subversive group by some fractions of the Ministry, members like Frank, Alice or Mad-Eye Moody had the additional task of keeping his extra-curricular activities unknown to their employers.

Remus' progress was evident. At school, he had learn to act quickly, to block and to attack, but trying to defend himself from James and Sirius' pranks or from any random Slytherin was something very different to fighting Aurors. His first weeks has been painful enough, but his determination did nothing but increase with every curse received. He was still convinced this was the only course of action for him, and he was devoting entirely to it.

Finally the day had come. Only three months after beginning his training, when the door to the Longbottom's house opened, it was not Alice, but Dorcas who opened the door, wrapped in a travelling cloak; she was saying something completely unexpected to Remus.

"You've got your first mission, come on!"-

Remus stood for a moment there, rooted to the spot.

"Wha-?"

"We're in a hurry, come on, take my arm, we'll side-along to the place."

Without another word, Remus did was he was being told. A moment later, they were on a deserted hill. He suspected they were far away from home; the overcastted sky and the salty breeze made him think about the north coast but he was not sure. Without a word, Dorcas Meadowes started walking down the slope and he followed her.

It was a deserted area, with sandy dunes partially covered with weed. At the distance he could distinguish the silhouette of buildings. Trying hard to keep it concealed, he kept his wand at the ready; he could bet his companion walking in front of him was doing the same. There was something strange, almost eerie about the place.

"We're hoping to get on time to a meeting," she suddenly said; most of the words got drowned by the wind and Remus had to ask her to say it again.

"What sort of a meeting?"

"The nasty sort," she said. "We'll try to eavesdrop on them."

"Why isn't Frank or Alice coming with us?" even though he very much respected Dorcas and what she could do, he was sure she was no match for the Aurors.

"It's too simple a mission for sending fully-qualified Aurors," she almost sneered, "for this small matters, they send us rookies."

She did not say another word and Remus remained silent as well.

Without being able to prevent it, mental images were forming in his mind. A crowd of Death Eaters, maybe meeting with Voldemort himself, and they being able to listen to it, maybe even catch something that would allow them to prevent another attack.

They had finally reached the buildings. They were abandoned deposits of a harbour nearby. Remus could not see the sea yea, but the smell had grown stronger and there was a unique air of navy on their surroundings, although it all seemed abandoned.

"How do we know it's here?" he whispered, half dreading her to get angry.

"We have a general idea. From now on, we're just guessing," she muttered, pointing at a dark alley, right behind the brick wall of one of the buildings.

Remus wrapped himself more tightly with his cloak, the wind seemed to be much cold in this part, or maybe it was just the humidity going through the clothes and on his skin.

"You're feeling it too, then," Dorcas said with a grimace, "it's a good sign."

Remus looked at her puzzled, but she did not elaborate.

They walked further into the alley until they reached a small metal door.

"This might work," she muttered, more to herself.

The cold was getting much stronger and Remus' cloak seemed to be useless against it. For a moment he had the wild impression it was coming from inside him rather than from the environment.

Dorcas was pushing the door gently with her fingers. It did not move, so she pointed at it with her wand. A small gap allowed them to look inside. There were back hooded figures, massive, apparently discussing with a person standing on their midst. Somebody screamed and roared inside Remus' head and before fully realising the creatures were Dementors, he felt everything go dark around him.

OOO

_After the excruciating pain, Remus opened his eyes. His muscles were stiff and sore, but other than that he felt good, strong, and very hungry. The black and white contours of the shapes around him were always deceiving, but his sense of smell was something he could always rely on._

_Now, Remus was sniffing. Feeling the air for that scent that always lingered; he could never get close to the thing that produced the smell, even though there was nothing he wanted more._

_His paws stepped on the wooden floor, his nose pressed against it. Suddenly he ran, searching around for something that would placate his urge to get fed. There was nothing._

_Frustration and rage filled his body and he launched himself against one wall. The crash was loud, and it did nothing to satiate him. _

_Suddenly he realised there was only one thing to do. Turning around he saw it. It was his own body, he knew that, but what else could he do._

_His fangs sank into his furry skin, he could see it ripping, he could feel his teeth going further inside, he could taste the blood now. Yes, that was something very close to what he had been in desperate need of. The bite deepened and he could get to the flesh too. It was the wrong flavour, his instincts were longing for something else, but it was good enough. _

_He stopped biting his own back of a moment, and tasted the blood on his fangs. It was not enough, not nearly enough. He needed much more than that. Again, he turned his head and sank his teeth on his own body, this time on his rare leg. _

_Remus felt something closed to pain, a sort of stinging right were his teeth were sinking, but his hunger and rage were too great and much more important._

_This would have to do for now. _

OOO

"That's exactly what I was talking about," Remus could hear Frank's voice at a distance.

He was cold, though he could feel sweat running down his face. They were not besides the empty building at the harbour anymore. He was lying on a soft material, but he could not yet open his eyes.

"I couldn't just leave him there, now, could I?" Dorcas protested.

"It wasn't his fault," Alice said.

"I know it wasn't. But he's not ready yet."

Nobody spoke and, making an almighty effort, Remus opened his eyes.

"Here, take this," Alice was giving him something that looked a lot like a bar of chocolate.

He looked at her confused.

"Eat it," Frank said, "as much as you can. It helps."

Remus tried to sit up; he had been lying in Frank and Alice's couch, he could recognise the place now. Out of the window it was dark. How long had he been out could?

"What happened?" he asked, taking a bite from the piece of chocolate. Frank had been right, the effect was immediate. The unbearable coldness he had been feeling inside seemed to be melting away and the throbbing pain on his head receded a little.

The three persons standing in front of him exchanged a worried look.

"It was your first time with Dementors," Frank said, midway between a statement and a question.

It hit Remus as a punch.

"The mission," he snapped, getting on his feet, "what happened…?"

Dorcas expression was saying it all.

"We had to get back."

"There was no mission," Frank added. "Sit down, now."

"I blew it," Remus said, sinking back on the couch. His legs were shaky but that was nothing compare with the general weakness.

"Keep eating," Frank answered. "And yeah, you sort of blew it."

Remus took another bite, but only because it was an order. Chocolate could not do much about his feeling miserable.

"What happened?"

"You fainted," Dorcas said. "You had been acting funny for a while, I knew you were cold, but it seemed like you would make it all right. Then you saw them and fainted; you started to tremble on the floor. I couldn't leave you there," she finished harshly.

It was as if she was excusing not only to Remus but also to the Aurors.

"So you brought me here," he said unnecessarily.

"I had to _stupefy_ you first," Dorcas said, "I couldn't Apparate you while you kept on trashing about,"

"And we couldn't find out anything about…"

"Not anything," Alice said, smiling a little. "At least, from what Dorcas has told us, we know there was a meeting. We know for certain now that Voldemort is trying to recruit Dementors. Before now, it was just a rumour."

None of them spoke for a moment.

"I didn't know you could faint when getting close to a Dementor," Remus finally said. "I've never read about that." He needed to know exactly what had happened and why, he needed to be able to prevent it from happening again.

"You don't," Frank said, taking a seat in front of him, "not usually, at least."

"Then what happened to me?"

Frank shook his head slowly.

"Do you remember what you saw? What memories did you get before passing out? Can you tell us?"

Renewed cold shivers ran down Remus' spine and he hastened to take another bit of chocolate. He had not thought about it since he woke up but now the memories were flooding in, fresh and raw, almost as if he was living the moment again. He felt not hungry anymore as it had been while having these visions. Now, he was back, and he felt ashamed, dirty, sicken, and above it all, he did not want to share those memories with anybody.

But he could not afford it happening again. And if it was true that Voldemort was recruiting Dementors to fight along with him, then there would be plenty of opportunities for him to meet them again… if he did not get expelled from the Order after this.

"We know it can be hard," Alice said. "Dementors bring back your worse memories, you know that. And sometimes those are exactly the memories you wouldn't want to share-"

"I was a werewolf," Remus said, looking at the now small piece of chocolate in his hands. He was almost whispering. "I could smell like one, and see, and I felt what is like, the hunger, the fury… I even bite… I didn't know I had _memories_ of that."

Nobody said a thing.

"Because I never remember anything," he continued. "What's left after a full moon is just the pain of the transformation, but never what was like while being transformed. I was… I've never bit anybody," he added hastily. Remus felt he needed to say it, even though he knew the Longbottoms must have been told that. "So I was biting me."

"I never thought…" Dorcas started after a pause. "So, a Dementor would affect werewolves the most?" She looked at Alice.

"I don't think it works that way, really. I think it depends on the werewolf, doesn't it? Some of them really seem to enjoy the fact that they are werewolves and that they can do all those things."

"Like Greyback," Remus said, looking at them. "I bet that wouldn't be his worse memory at all, maybe it would be the best one, so a Dementor wouldn't show it."

The people on the room stayed quiet again.

"I've never realised it's in me," Remus said after a while. "Even if I don't remember it, that doesn't mean it didn't happen." _And worse of all, that doesn't mean I can just forget it. The memories are still inside me._

He ate what was left of the chocolate. Now he needed to know what would happen, it wouldn't do anybody any good to keep postponing his question.

"Am I still a member of the Order?" he tried hard to make his voice sound strong, and to hold Frank's gaze in his. Whatever the answer to that was, he was going to take it with dignity.

The Auror looked confused for a moment.

"Why wouldn't you? Just because you messed it up once it doesn't mean you're not good enough? Whatever gave you that idea?"

Remus could not say a thing. Along with the relief he was feeling, there was also fear, a small amount of it. Would it be as difficult every time he would be sent to a mission? Would he blew it again?

Frank seemed to be reading his mind.

"We all mess it up once in a while. It's about being lucky, sometimes, but also being prepared. That part we're working on. So, you get out that couch and we'll continue training."

* * *

**AN: Happy Hallowe'en!**


	26. The heavy knocking on his door

_Late 1978_

Somebody resumed the heavy knocking on his door. Remus had the vague impression they had been calling for a while now, but at some point the sound had got mixed with his own dreams. Making an almighty effort, he stood up and stumbled through the tiny apartment to his front door.

Remus had been meaning to finish unpacking and tidy up since he had arrived to the place, many days ago, but there always seemed to be something more important or urgent to do. He now he hoped his visitor, whoever it was, would not mind.

Had he not been that tired, the fact that he indeed had a visitor would have surprised him a great deal. His moving to a place of his own had been very recent and he had not yet told anybody about it. Remus would have reasonably said he had not had time to do so, between training sessions and haste meeting with one member of the Order or another. However, if he was to be honest, the truth was, he did not think much about the few square meters he now called his place. It was tiny, on the topmost floor of an ancient building, and the only reason he had taken it was that it would permit him to be in the city where he had recently found a job on a Muggle store. He needed to be independent after all, and continuing living with his parents, although comfortable, was starting to get odd.

James and Lily were standing matter-of-factly on his threshold and the first thing he saw were their bright smiles, clear sign that, of course, they did not mind, not only his lack of tidiness but also the miserable looks of the apartment itself.

"Hey, stranger," Lily said, giving him a quick hug.

"All right, mate?"

"Yeah, hi," Remus' brain was slowly catching up with the fact that they had found him… and suddenly it became increasingly important his not having cleaning the place. How would he have known anyway? "What are you guys doing here?"

"I'll try to pretend you've just invite you in, shall I?" James said, with a wide grin. "You're looking terrible, Moony."

"What a charmer," Lily said, following him inside, and Remus did not know if she was talking about James or him.

There was a rickety old sofa, covered with several books and old papers Remus had been sorting out right before falling asleep. Unceremoniously, James levitated the lot haphazardly on top of one unopened carton box and took a sit, gently pulling Lily to his side.

"Can I… er… offer you something?" Remus said hesitantly. He could not remember he had anything at all in that small cabinet that was supposed to be a kitchen, except for a couple of empty boxes that used to contain Chinese food not long ago.

"No need," Lily smiled, taking a small brown bag out of her pocket and placing it on the floor right in front of her. With a tap of her wand, the bag grew bigger and Remus could distinguish the contours of several bottles inside. "We've brought a little something."

"Are you gonna sit or what?" James asked, arching an eyebrow.

Remus had to shake his head.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's just-"

"You didn't expect us here," James filled in. "We know. Your Mum warned us about you, probably losing your polite manners the moment you'd move out of her place. She said you'd become a filthy scoundrel without her cleaning after you."

"She didn't," Remus frowned slightly.

"Of course she didn't," Lily was opening bottles of Butterbeer and passing them. "She was very kind, and just gave us your address."

For a moment nobody said a thing. While taking a sip from his bottle, Remus could imagine the silent reproaches from them. _Why haven't you told us you were moving? Since when do you live here? Does anybody else know? _

"We're getting married!" James announced, without as much as a preamble.

For a moment, Remus thought he had misheard him.

He looked at them, waiting for the laughter that usually accompanied James' pranks, or for some reproachful look on Lily's eyes. He found no such things, but some contained wild happiness that seemed to radiate from their pores.

"Are you…?"

"Yes!" Lily cried, triumphantly showing a ring on her finger. Remus asked himself distractedly why haven't he noticed it before.

"That is… wow… I mean… congratulations!" _Aren't you just too young to get married? Aren't we supposed to be fighting against the darkest of wizards? Why on Earth would you want to start a family precisely now?_

Ignoring all his questions and the pressing sensation that he had hit his head hard, he stood up. Lily and James had jumped to their feet; a hug seemed in order.

"Congratulations, you two!" he repeated, loud enough for his mental questions to be drowned. "When?"

"Four weeks from now," James said.

"It's going to be simple, we wanted to do is as soon as possible."

"Four weeks…?" Remus felt he was still getting used to see them all without a uniform, let alone married and forming a family. _Has James got any funny spells on the head at Auror training?_

"Yeah, we know it might sound rush…" he was explaining.

"But we were so sure about it… actually, James was, when he proposed… and then I realised I was as sure as he was!" Lily's enthusiasm was contagious. It almost made it all sound reasonable.

Remus tried very hard through all the remaining conversation to make his expression look cheery enough. He feared he was failing at it. He remembered he had been really happy when Lily had finally agreed to date James, back in their seventh year. He was happy for the two of us, of course.

_But such a haste marriage, deciding so suddenly to change their lives in this sort of solemn way…_

And suddenly it hit him, as James chatted away about his training and Lily, for once, didn't try to make him shut up. Of course they loved each other; there was no question of that. But there was also the pressing matter of the war. For despite what everybody in the Order wanted to believe and to make the others believe, they were at war, and their lives were being threatened every day.

So what was so wrong about trying to live it as much a possible?

Remus could not come up with any reasonable answer.

* * *

"Oi, Sirius, stop it!"

"What?"

"You need to stop pacing the room!" Remus said, wearily. "You're making me nervous."

Sirius stopped for a moment, looked at him, and then resumed his pacing the Potter's living room.

"Can't help it, mate. What if…? What if something goes wrong? What if… I don't know, what if they forget each other's names right in the crucial time? What if James trips on his way to the aisle? What if I trip?"

"Nobody will care if you do," Remus said dryly. Sirius ignored it.

"What if I can't find the rings?"

"Do you have the rings?"

Wide eyed, Sirius searched in his vest's pockets, then in the ones of the jacket. Finally he found the small box on the inside.

"You see?" Remus said, "nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say," Sirius said.

"Oh really?" Remus arched an eyebrow, "oh yeah, I forgot, since I'm not the best man, I'm not that important, am I?"

He was teasing Sirius, of course, and his disdainful glance made it perfectly plain that he knew Remus did not mean that. They had always known that, even if the four of them had been very close friends, the bond between James and Sirius was something much stronger.

"Don't be stupid," Sirius added, for good measure.

Remus smiled.

"Where's Peter, by the way?"

"Late, as usual," Sirius muttered, and then with a completely different voice, he asked, "do you think this is a good idea?"

The question, popping out of the blue like that, made Remus wonder for a moment or two what was Sirius really talking about.

"You mean… the wedding?"

"The wedding, yeah, the wedding," Sirius resumed his pacing of the room. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

Remus had to think for a moment, half relieved that he had not been the only one questioning the whole thing, but weary about Sirius' real motivations nonetheless.

"They love each other…" he started.

"Of course they do, we've never seen James behave like that with any other girl before."

"They are happy," Remus said.

"Very happy," Sirius agreed.

"Then…?"

Sirius sighed and pressed the heels of his hand on his eyes for a moment.

"I don't know, Moony. They've been together for little more than a year, right? Don't you think this is a bit… rushed? What if the wake up one day, five years from now, and realise they have make a mistake? I mean, I've loved girls, they are great, but wanting to get tied up to one for the rest of my life… never!"

Remus chuckled involuntarily. It was just Sirius' blunt style of saying things, and yet, he had a point.

"But what they have," Remus spoke slowly, "that's something different from what you've had with other girls… or what I've had, even if that thing whit Mary was some sort of joke. My point is we've never been in that situation, or even remotely. I think we're not supposed to understand it. Just… I don't know, accept it. And hope for the best, right?"

Sirius grimaced.

"Yeah…"

Putting his hands in his pockets, and, it was obvious to Remus, trying to look casual, he spoke again,

"D'you think this has something to do with the war?"

It seemed odd to have to talk about this precisely with Sirius, but apparently he had been thinking exactly along the same lines as he had.

"It might have something to do with it, yeah," Remus tried to put some doubts into his words even though they were none.

"That's what's bothering me the most," Sirius snapped. "I'm sure they wouldn't be rushing like this if those good for nothing Death Eaters wouldn't be threatening our pants off every day."

"Well, that's the point, right?" suddenly, he realised he had his answer. "We are at war. And we want to think we're invincible, right? That we'll come out of this, unscratched, victorious, and that all of us will live cheery, happy and long lives. But we don't know it."

"We'll be all right," Sirius started.

"We don't know."

"Come on, Moony, don't get all morose on me!"

"I'm not, really! I'm just trying to be realistic. We're fine, but what if later on we won't. I mean, yeah, you're right, maybe they'll wake up some years after today and they'll realise they don't stand each other. Well, then they'll split and it will be very sad, but at least they'll be alive and they would have had their shot to… well… to be alive and do things. And there is also the chance they'll be happy and we'll remember all this in their 25th anniversary."

Sirius sighed deeply.

"I hate it when you're right."

Remus smiled.

"You should've got used to it by now."

"Git."

Sirius turned around and looked out the window. Remus thought the conversations was over. After all, in close than no time James would call him and the ceremony will begin.

"It's just…" Sirius' hoarse voice surprised him. "I always pictured us, you know? James, and you, and Peter and me, doing stuff after graduation. Maybe moving in and, I don't know… travelling or something. I always knew we were to get married and have a family, eventually, but not just jet. We still have stuff to do!"

Remus sighed deeply. He made an effort to ignore the fact that he would not have a family; they were talking about something else entirely and his attention had to focus on it.

"You're not gonna lose him," he finally said. "He still be there, he's your friend!"

Sirius didn't say a thing. He was looking out of the window.

Maybe he had to say something else, Remus felt, but he could not find the words. A moment later, the door opened, and James entered.

"Hey, the man of the day!" Sirius announced, beaming.

* * *

Later Remus would have never got the chance to ask Sirius if, during that small ceremony, he had changed his mind and forgot his doubts. He certainly had.

There were decorations everywhere in the garden, many cheering guests, friends of the Potters, friends from school, and even a couple of Muggles, Lily's parents, looking it all with surprised eyes. But that had had nothing to do with Remus' sudden realisation that this was the better decision James had made in his life.

Lilly walked down the aisle, smiling at people she recognised, looking as beautiful as a bride should look. And then, she found James' eyes and Remus could swear the entire atmosphere transformed. Nobody seemed to have noticed it; every little event of the ceremony went as planned and yet something deep and intense had happened and Remus could feel as if he could be knocked out of his feet with the intensity of it all.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot to all readers and especially to such great reviewers: NeverBeenDarkMarked, Snarky64, login password, ttcrews, QueenCobraWing, ludmilla, SunshineRoses and strukkfirst!**


	27. Flash of red light

_November 1979_

The flash of red light passed mere inches over Remus' head and he had to launch himself onto the muddy ground. He tried to ignore the feel of the cold water through his cloak; he needed to get up again.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, pointing his wand at one of the dark figures surrounding them.

He did not check if he had hit something. There were too many of them, the surroundings were too dark and the mist was making it even more difficult to see what was lying ahead of him. Remus needed to find a better position, to asset his situation in order to get back to the fight.

"Oi, over here!"

He felt as if somebody was trying to take his arm off. A hand was clutching his, pulling hard in the direction of long dark shadows and something that looked a lot like bushes.

Scrambling on the muddy ground, Remus got up and followed the figure running in front of him.

"How many are them?" he asked.

"Dunno," James muttered, trying to see through the low branches in front of them. "More than a handful, it seems."

"Much more than what they told us…"

"Yeah, a few more." James nodded, "should we wait for-?"

Remus considered the situation for a moment. It had been a trap, it was clear now. Somebody had passed them faulty information and what should have been an encounter of three Death Eaters had turned out to be one very large gathering. Saying that they were outnumbered was the understatement of the century.

"I don't think anybody's coming to help us. I say we try to capture one."

A flash of bright light made a hole on the earth nearby. A shower of pebbles flew in their direction and Remus casted a shield charm, just in case they were aiming other curses.

Somebody panted nearby and both of them pointed their wands in the direction of the sound. Another figure covered in mud appeared, his wand at the ready.

"Benjy, how does it look from the other side?" James asked.

"It's a right mess; they've been waiting for us."

"What are we doing now?"

"I say we'll capture one," Remus repeated. "We haven't come here for nothing. It's dark, I think they have no idea how many of us there are, we can try to separate them and get to at least one. Those were our orders after all."

"That's crazy, mate," Benjy said. "Those would have been our orders if the situation had been as planned. Two or three of them against three of us!"

"Yeah, but now, if there's a bunch, I bet they wouldn't know where everybody is, we can get to one, stun him and then out!"

Benjy considered the situation for a moment.

"Come on, Benjy, what if we don't get another chance like this?" Remus insisted.

"All right," the older member of the Order said. "Let's separate, and start firing jinxes everywhere. They'll think there are more of us."

James nodded. In front of them, people were yelling, calling at each other and blindly firing spells.

"And, in the process, we can try to recognize who's over there," he agreed.

"I think I've seen Mulciber."

"We should've jinxed him better when we were at school," James said.

Remus smiled a little.

"Shall we, then?"

Benjy nodded and sprinted back into the dark, half-crouched. Another curse flashed nearby but it was aiming at a completely different direction. Remus was about to do the same, when he felt James grabbing his upper arm.

"Hey, Moony," he started.

"What?"

"Try not to be too reckless, would you?"

Remus shrugged.

"See you in a bit."

He dived into the misty darkness again, trying to distinguish shapes in the direction from which the voices were coming. He just needed to get near the place where he had last seen the shadows.

The dark contours of the houses were barely distinguishable from where he was standing; he sprinted towards what looked as an empty space ahead, maybe a small square, where the voices were growing stronger.

"Don't move," it was a very calm voice coming from behind him. Remus could not see it, but he could be there was a tip of a wand pointing at his back.

He stopped, trying hard to think about a way out.

"Tell me who you are," the voice demanded, "or I'll find out for myself."

Remus was sure that he had not been stunned yet only because whoever it was wanted answers first, the regulars who you are, who do you work for and how many of you there were.

Suddenly the loud shouting resumed, much closed this time, and flashes of light right in front of him were casted from one side to the other. Without planning it, he bent down on the floor, blindly firing a stunning spell at his back.

"Piece of- _Crucio_!"

Remus rolled away from the Death Eater, nearly avoiding the curse.

"_Impedimenta_!" He missed again.

The speed of his opponent was making it almost impossible for him to aim properly; he was backing up, shielding himself, while desperately trying to get on his feet. In this position, his defences were weaker, he felt as his last shield charm vibrated under the force of the curses.

"_Stupefy_!" somebody else had fired a course and this time it hit Remus' opponent.

He aimed his wand at the newcomer.

"Hold it, lad," Mad-Eye grunted.

"It was a trap," Remus said, "there are many of them."

"I know, let's go."

With an agility Remus certainly did not expected from the old Auror, he started sprinting towards the struggle. Now there was much more yelling and the flashing of light cut across the darkness and the mist.

"You get over there," Moody grunted, pointing to his right. "Try not to get too close, and stupefy whatever moves."

"James and Benjy are there!"

"Meadowes and Dearborn too. Stupefy anyway, we have no time for introductions."

On the middle of the deserted square the mess was incredible. On top of the shouting and the flashes of light coming from the wands, somebody had set a tree on fire. The darkness was not as solid as before, but the strange shadows were making the moving shapes much more difficult to distinguish.

Remus launched himself in the direction of a group of shadows; it seemed they were wearing hoods. One of his spells hit one, squarely in the chest, but the other two reacted quickly and he had to defend himself again. Nearby, he could hear James shouting at a massive Death Eater that seemed to be too quick for him.

He wanted to help his friend, but he knew he could not, his own predicament was not any better. He could not allow himself to end up in a situation like the one Moody had just rescued him; he had to fire spells back. So running as fast as possible around the figures, ducking and hiding and emerging again, he shoot, not caring, just as the Auror had said, if he was aiming for friends or foes.

One of the figures stumbled and hit the floor and the other one sprinted towards Remus with remarkable energy. He tried to put some distance between himself and the Death Eater, he needed just a good aim at him.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

The cried had come not from his attacked but from another struggle nearby and, without being able to help it, Remus looked around. He needed to see, he needed to be sure none of them had been hit by that spell.

Something hit him; he could feel his body shake, and something burning in his legs. He did not stop to see what had happened, but with all his might, he sent another curse at his attacker. It looked as if he had hit him this time. Running as fast as possible, he reached the spot where he had last see James.

_If something happens to him, Lily will kill me_.

A figure was lying, face down on the ground, Remus turned it around. The face was completely unknown to him.

Right ahead, the struggle continued, and flashes of light were being fired from two different directions. He could not tell from his position which one was his team. A spell flashed in his direction and he nearly missed it.

"Don't be stupid!" somebody called. "Get here! _Impedimenta_!"

He followed Dorcas' voice, ducking another spell and firing one of his own.

He wanted to ask if everybody was all right, but he knew it would be pointless, he needed to save all his remaining energy to finish this mission. They needed to get something out of this, other than pain and the deep feeling of disappointment.

Concentrating hard, he pointed his wand at the upcoming mass of shadows.

"_Incendio_!"

* * *

"He showed up, out of thin air," Lily was explaining. "I can't describe it. He looks so… he doesn't look human. For the first time I got why there are people not willing to say his name aloud."

James had an arm around her and looked as if he would never let her off his sight again.

"He's not from this world," Lily continued, "and all those people were following his orders, it was like an army. Everybody knew what to do, and they were fighting as if they had no fear."

"Frank, Alice and Fabian where fighting him, the three of them at the same time, and it seemed he wasn't even sweating," Sirius said.

Remus turned his head to see the Prewett brothers, sitting on a corner, talking to Dumbledore.

"It has been a joke of a mission, both of them have," Benjy muttered from the couch. He had just awoken and was still unable to move due to the many bandages around his torso and legs.

From all who had gone, he had been the most injured, although not the only one. Remus had been hit by something on the legs and now he had a new set of fresh scars to match the ones made by him in the last full moon; Peter had been knocked cold in the first assault and Marlene was still recovering from a Cruciatus curse.

"But at least we got three of them, right?" Sirius added. "And one of them is death. I don't think it went that bad."

"We got lucky, Padfoot," James said. "If Moody hadn't come with enforcements we wouldn't be here to tell the tale."

Lily shook her head.

"But why on earth did you have to get in? Couldn't you see there were too many of them?"

James shifted uncomfortably and Benjy looked away.

"It was my idea," Remus finally spoke. "I thought we could separate them get to at least one of them. And we did-"

"Remus, you almost bleed to death," she protested. "I can't even imagine how you continued fighting after receiving that spell! What were you thinking?"

Remus shook his head. The others were making a point on not looking at any of them.

"I wasn't thinking, Lily, all right? The only thing that crosses my mind during a battle is that I have to take down as many Death Eaters as possible and, if there is a chance, I have to keep my mates safe. That's it. And if I got hurt… well, I'm fine now, right? This is a war, things like this happen all the time-"

"You could have been killed, all of you. And it would've been your fault."

It felt like a punch in the guts. He did not know what else to say.

"Oi, Lily, give him a break, would you?" Sirius said softly.

"Anybody can make a mistake…" James added.

Lily breathed heavily.

"I know," she said. "But this is not just now, isn't it? Remus, you're being reckless."

The word reverberated against his ears. Where had he last heard it? It had been not long ago and he had dismissed it. Was it true though?

"I'm not," he muttered, looking at the new scars on his legs, but he was not that convinced anymore.

"Listen," Lily's voice made him look up again, "I can only imagine your reasons to throw yourself into the thickest of every battle. If you don't want to tell us, is all right. But consider this: it's not only that you're not alone and you'll risk other people's lives along with yours, it's that your dying isn't just your business anymore."

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I hate it when you act stupid. What I mean is that if you die, I'm coming over and kill you myself, is that clear?"


	28. Sirius opened the Potters' door

__**The last time I checked, Harry Potter still belonged to J.K. Rowling. I do thank her for letting me play with this amazing characters!**

* * *

_July 31st 1980_

It was Sirius who opened the Potters' door and Remus thought it was a miracle he did not took it off its hinges with the force of it.

"What took you so long?" he practically yelled.

"Excuse me!" Remus replied indignantly, "I've been summoned from Whales! I was in the middle of a mission!"

"Don't be so edgy and come inside."

"Look who's barking," Remus said. Sirius ignored him.

"Any news?"

Sirius ran both hands through his hair.

"Nothing. She's been there for almost two hours. The Matron says it could take longer!"

"And what's James doing?"

"Dunno, he keeps coming down and going back upstairs… I've never seen him this agitated in his life."

He went into the kitchen and came back, a handful of bottles on his arms.

"I've never seen _you_ like this before either" Remus sneered. "And you're not the father."

Sirius glared at him, thrusting a Butterbeer in his hand.

"How do you manage to be this… this exasperatingly calm?"

If Remus had to be honest, he would admit he was not actually calm. It was a good façade though, one he had grown accustom to use whenever he head to hide the after effects of a transformation, of his way of living to his Muggle employer.

"I just know everything will be all right," he lied.

"Git," murmured Sirius, taking a large gulp from his bottle.

Remus chuckled and opened his.

"Where's Peter?"

Sirius shrugged.

"I don't know. I sent him a Patronus, but I haven't heard from him yet."

"D'you reckon he'll come?"

"He'd better."

Some scrambling noise came from the stairs and James appeared, his hair messier than after the average Quidditch match, pale and with dark shadows under his eyes.

"Hey Moony, you made it."

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world."

James was not listening to him anymore. He sprinted to the kitchen and came back again, carrying an armful of towels.

"More towels," he muttered. "Don't know why that woman needs so many of them. You'd say she's trying to get rid of me."

"How's Lily doing?" Remus asked, before he could disappear up the stairs again. It was more than possible that the Matron indeed wanted to keep him away for a moment or two and it wouldn't hurt to give her a hand.

James sighed.

"She's doing great, of course. At least, that's what they're trying to make me believe. I reckon they're right. I mean, she's in pain, of course." He looked around hopelessly. "Why does it take this long? I mean, couldn't the baby just… get born already?"

Sirius gave him a pat on the back.

"He'll be here. You'll get to see your sprog in no time."

"How much longer should it to take?" Remus asked.

"I have no idea. I don't think they know either. Or maybe those women just enjoy keeping me tense."

"I wouldn't put it pass…" Sirius started, "the Matron," he amended, after looking at James' fierce glance.

"James!" Lily's voice came from upstairs.

Less than a second later, he was climbing, two steps at the time.

"This is it?" Remus asked, most of the calmness forgotten.

"It better be!"

Both men started pacing the living room.

"Moony, mate, if I ever get into a similar mess… you know, wife and sprog and such stuff, please, do _stupefy_ me 'till it's over."

Remus chuckled.

"I'll pay you the same courtesy, promised," Sirius added.

"First of all, I bet the future Mrs. Padfoot, whoever the poor soul is, would hex me into oblivion if I did such a thing. I'm not willing to put myself in front of the wrong end of a wand belonging to somebody actually willing to marry you." He ignored Sirius' mocking face of outrage. "And on another note, we furry creatures don't breed."

"Really?" for a moment Sirius seemed to have forgotten the commotion upstairs, he was looking at Remus with interest. "How come? Are you like… unable to?"

Remus gave him a punch on the shoulder.

"Don't be a prat. Of course not! But can you imagine it? First, I'd need to get somebody not to scared or disgust either by my personality or my condition who'd like to be the mother of my offspring; or to just tolerate to be with me for just that time."

"Self-pity, self-pity," Sirius muttered.

"I like to call it realism," Remus continued. "And then, even if she got pregnant, what would come out of it? A cub? A baby wolf? I wouldn't pass my condition to anybody, under any circumstance!"

Sirius was scratching his head, thoughtfully.

"And what makes you think _your_ sprog would inherit the hairiness?"

Remus shrugged.

"I'd say it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"I don't know… is it in the genes or something? I thought the only way to pass it was by biting…"

A loud sound interrupted him: an almighty cry and, after an infinitely long moment, James' voice.

"Oi! Come here to meet your nephew you two!"

Both Sirius and Remus stared at each other and a moment later, they were climbing up the stairs.

The door of the bedroom stood ajar, the cries were strong but now Remus could also hear laughter and another set of sobs.

"Should we…?" Sirius asked, arching his eyebrows.

"Let's give them a minute," Remus said.

It seemed to be asking too much from Sirius.

The door opened, and the Matron came out, levitating a heap of dirty towels. She closed the door at her back ignored them as if they were part of the pattern on the wall paper.

Sirius gave Remus another inquisitive look. He nodded and pushed the door open.

Lily was on the bed, looking as if she had run miles, but smiling in a way Remus could not think possible. James was at his side, looking both at her and at the tiny crying lump on her lap. He felt as if they were peeking on something private, on a moment that was just for them to share, until James looked up.

"Isn't this grand?" he was smiling wildly, as if he had just won the most important Quidditch match, but with a tenderness so untypical him Remus wondered if he had actually seen it.

_So this is what is it like to be father_, he thought, looking how James' eyes seemed to drinking every little move this tiny new person was doing.

* * *

_December 1980_

Little Harry had learned that doing soft noises with his mouth would draw everybody's attention, only this time it did not seemed to be working that well. Sirius was holding him, and giving him a rather harsh swing every once in a while, caught up by the conversation; whenever that happen, Remus could swear Lily was aching to take her son out of his grandfather's hand but she was doing all she could to stay put.

"But how do they know what happened?" Lily asked.

"They don't really know, do they?" James explained. "The forced Dorcas to Apparate out, to get some reinforcements. She is a mess, she swears she didn't want to leave them."

"Moody had told her to shut it," Sirius said, giving Harry and extra violent and involuntary swing, "and that the only thing that could have been gain from her staying behind would have been another corpse."

"How tactful of him," Lily said, finally standing up with a loud sigh and carefully taking the baby from Sirius' hold.

"Anyway," James continued. "Dorcas said there were five of them, five Death Eaters. And they started duelling with Fabian and Gideon. Apparently they were holding on all right."

"Still," Remus said, "two against five… that's a situation you can't sustain for too long."

Lily closed her eyes and breathed heavily.

"I can't believe they're gone," she whispered.

For a long moment nobody said a thing, and Harry resumed his little sounds.

"Afterwards Moody had to go to see the family, you know," James said, his voice sombre.

"They were not married, weren't they?" Lily asked.

"No," Sirius shook his head. "No girlfriends either. There was only their sister and her family. She had wanted to join the Order, but she's raising a bunch of small kids, it was impossible."

"Poor thing."

"She's got a nasty work ahead of her anyway. Moody wanted her to go to the Prewetts' to see if there was something out of place."

"Like two dead bodies, for instance?"

"Oh, come on, Padfoot," Remus grunted. "That was uncalled for."

The never-ending conversation about past battles and ever growing casualties made him weary. Of course, there seemed to be nothing else to talk about these days, but that did not made the topics any more pleasant.

"I mean it. I think the whole situation is getting out of hand. I know there might be a teensy possibility for the Death Eaters to have left something behind, but why on earth should that woman go there and face the whole thing? They're being sort of insensible."

Hearing Sirius talk about insensitivity was utterly unexpected.

"I see your point, mate," James nodded. "It's the same thing with Dorcas. They wanted her to replay the whole thing, to say who'd been there, who fired which spell and all that. What good could you possible get for it? Instead it will take her longer to recover and get back to the fight."

"It's a joke of a fight anyway," Sirius added.

"What do you mean?" Remus interest had been awoken again.

"I mean…" he sighed and looked at the others. "Do you think we're actually making a difference here?"

Nobody talked for a long moment.

"Our numbers were low to begin with. And all that had happened lately had ended up in some of us getting hurt or… or dying, like Gideon and Fabian. And what for? Do you think they're getting weaker? Is Voldemort planning on retiring or something?"

"Don't let Moody hear you talking like that," James said, grimly. "He'll chuck you out the Programme and hex your balls off while he's at it."

"James," Lily protested, pointing at little Harry who was dozing off.

"Oh, come on, he's not able to distinguish the word… all right, I won't say it again," he gave up.

"I just have the feeling we're losing it all. Members, energy, resources, time, hope, you name it."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, it was so unlike Sirius to talk like that and yet, it was getting common nowadays to take such a pessimistic view of things.

"We can't think like that. We can't risk it. And yet, even if you knew you were doomed, wouldn't you fight anyway?" he looked at his friends' faces. "You wouldn't just… sit back and wait, would you?"

Lily shrugged, frowning.

"My parents died because of them. I would've said I'd keep fighting even if I was the last person alive. Only…"

"Yes?" James asked, looking intently at her.

"There's Harry now," she said simply. "So I have to stay at home with him, I can't fight anymore. I have to look for him too, haven't I?"

Remus sighed. Almost every day he was remained of how different the reasons for joining a fight were; of how that was another thing that separated him from the rest.

"What do you say, Peter? You've been unusually quiet."

That was not really true. Lately, being quiet seemed to be Peter's natural state. Remus suspected that the toll the war was getting from him was somehow taller. After all, he had not really been the terribly brave kind.

He startled a little, almost as if he had forgotten he was not alone.

"I'm… I'm just tired, you know…" he muttered, looking at his feet. "I reckon I'll go home now."

Remus stood up as well.

"I think I'll go too. I'm going to stay on Guard Duty tomorrow. Sirius? You coming?"

"Nah," he rubbed his eyes, "I think I'll stay a little longer. That is, if I'm not butting in?" he looked at Lily, questioning.

"We'll have to put up with you," she said with a deep fake sight.

Remus smiled and followed Peter outside. The moment he got out it seemed he was starting to feel better.

"Are you all right?" Remus asked nonetheless.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just worried, that's all."

Remus nodded.

"We all are…"

For a moment Remus could be sure Peter was about to say something. He closed and opened his mouth several times, but not a sound came from it.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

Peter shook his head weakly.

"Do you mind if I tell you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"It's, it's... it's stupid, you know," Peter stuttered a little, his eyes fixed on the ground. Suddenly, he walked a few paces away from the house and then looked at their back, as if he was checking that they were actually alone. "I mean, we've been friends for a long time, right?"

"Of course we are. What are you on about?"

"Sirius," he said, a little too quickly.

Remus frowned.

"What about him?"

"I don't know, all right? He's just… been acting weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like… he's been late sometimes, or not being where he had told he would be. He's… I don't know. You heard him before. It's as if he's not convinced about the cause any more, as if he's not as convinced of what we have to do as we are."

It was strange, to say the least, to hear Peter talk like this. Although he had fulfilled most of the mission he had being tasked with, he had never been too outspoken about fighting. Not at all, actually. On top of that there was something... strange about his demeanour, but Remus could not put his finger on what it was.

"But that's just him getting tired, isn't it," Remus said, trying hard to sound reassuring. "We all want this to be over! We want a normal life, right?"

"But still… it's weird." Peter shook his head again, this time with energy. "Never mind. I'll just go home. We need some rest. Just… just forget I said all of this, all right?"

"What-?"

"It's nothing, really. Maybe I'm just... I'm just imagining things, you know. Seeing stuff or sensing stuff that's not there. But I keep wondering…" he sighed, still not meeting Remus' gaze. "Forget it... forget I said a thing."

"Right," Remus said, taken aback with the sudden end of the conversation. "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, and without another word he spun around and Disapparated.

Remus took off his wand to go as well. But, he could not do what Peter told him; he could not forget about what he had said. It was just an idea, maybe something really stupid produced by Peter's imagination. And yet...

* * *

**AN: ****Thank you very much to all of you!**


	29. Something very strange

There had been something very strange about Peter's words, as if something he had said had been… Remus could not put his finger on what it was and yet, with the passing weeks, he was growing restless beyond what was to expect with the increasing casualties and the general feeling of not being safe anymore.

This sort of agitation seemed to come from within.

Some weeks after that visit to the Potters, Peter had come over to visit him. He had looked pale and worn and Remus had asked him if he was feeling all right. First hesitantly and then with some sort of haste, Peter had repeated his fears about Sirius. Only this time he had asked Remus to keep an eye open. Just as unexpectedly as the first time, he had gone right afterwards, leaving Remus with a lot to think about.

Was Peter right? Was there something fishy about Sirius?

The idea was so strange, so incoherent, so far-fetched Remus would have laughed when he had first heard it. Except this was no time for laughter. People from within the Ministry had been discovered passing information to Death Eaters, scared families had decided to join Voldemort's ranks in order to protect their members.

Was it too strange, then, to suspect that somebody from within the Order of the Phoenix had turned to them as well?

Sometimes everything seemed to point to that theory. Missions going terribly wrong, people getting caught with apparent ease, almost as if the Death Eaters could anticipate their every movement, and what better way to do so than having one of them inside the Order.

But who was that person?

Dumbledore, of course, refused to believe any of them was betraying the group. He was adamant whenever that subject was discussed, which caused both Moody and the Longbottoms to roll their eyes impatiently. Deep down, though, Remus was sure Dumbledore was not as trusty as he seemed to be. Few things escaped that man's gaze.

And yet, what if this particular thing was indeed escaping him?

Was there a traitor in the Order? Was it Sirius?

Remus sighed. He had been standing outside a small house, waiting for his occupant to go out. Of course he could just use the Floo network or Disapparate right away making him close to impossible to follow, and yet, he had to be sure. For months now Remus had stood on this very spot, waiting for something to happen while wishing he was completely wrong,

Because, despite everything Peter had hinted about Sirius, Remus had felt something about it was wrong. And the only thing he could come up with had been the messenger: there was something strange in Peter; that had been clear from the beginning. The Peter he knew from school would not have talked like that, he would have followed Sirius and tried to expose him, at least to get some credit for unmask the traitor. That was the way Peter worked, wasn't it?

Was it possible that he was the traitor? Was it possible, even, that he would spread rumours about Sirius in order to make Remus suspect him instead?

Is seemed so strange a theory and Remus felt guilty for thinking like that... and yet, there was this feeling, something deep inside him. What if he was right? What if it was Peter the one working for the Death Eaters?

More than once the idea of confronting him instead of spying on him had passed his mind. He could easily cross the street and knock on the Pettigrews door. He could just tell Peter he wanted to talk to him and bluntly ask him if he had been dealing with people outside the Order. Maybe it all was a mistake and they would later laugh about it.

There was of course the possibility to talk to James and Sirius; he could tell them that it was terribly sorry to think this, but nonetheless they were at war it and would be foolish not to trust their instincts when there was something that didn't seem to be all right.

He could not. He could not go to Sirius and tell him Peter was suspecting him. He was no gossipy spinster! What sort of friend would tell them to stop trusting one of them? What if he was terribly mistaken? Still… what if Peter was right? What if Sirius was the one working for them?

Maybe he, Remus, was making a fool of himself, not to mention wasting so many hours doing extra guard duty instead of catching up with his sleep or just working more for the Order.

Remus sighed again. Peter had shut the light of his bedroom. He could go home for the night, he needed some rest after all.

How long would he have to continue like this, he did not know. Maybe somebody else was the traitor and maybe he or she would be discovered soon, proving that all of this had been a waste of time. That was the best scenario he could hope for.

Remus had just arrived home when a Patronus materialised on his living room.

"Moony, we have bad news, please come as soon as you can."

The stag had not yet vanished and Remus had already Disapparated to Godric's Hallow.

"How on Earth can you say that?" James' angry voice was audible even before he had stopped spinning. It was coming from inside the house. "He's a friend! We've been to a lot together! There's no mistrusting him, Sirius, do you hear me?"

Remus froze on the spot.

"I don't like it more than you do, Prongs," Sirius said, "but you have to look at the facts. Where is he all the time? He's always tired and I know there's something he's not telling us."

"It could be anything," Lily said, "what makes you think hiding something makes you a traitor?"

For a second Remus though about knocking loudly and pretend he had not eavesdropped on them, but his curiosity was even stronger.

"You can't hide stuff when there's a war going on," Sirius replied grimly. "Besides he's been acting strange for a long time now."

"What do you mean strange?" James asked.

"There's not just… I mean… there are a lot of things different about him. Like, moving out his parents and not telling anybody? Getting a job?"

Remus blood froze on his veins. Surely no…

"That was ages ago," Lily protested.

"Ever since we joined the Training Programme he's grown more distant every time."

"Of course he has," she spoke again, "I've told you millions of times. How would you think Remus feels? He's been rejected while you too have been accepted. And only because of what he is…"

Remus wanted to go away, somewhere else, he did not want to hear any further for he could perfectly imagine what they would say any time now. But he could not. His feet wouldn't move and his ears wouldn't stop listening.

"That's my point," Sirius said. "What if he's planning on joining them?"

"With everything Dumbledore just told us, with all that could happen to us, how do you dare not trusting Remus' loyalties? Are you mental?" James cried.

"No I'm not! Remember what you told me about that time Greyback stopped by. He told him he'll be back to fetch him later. What if he had? What if Remus is planning on joining them? What if he already has?"

For a moment nobody spoke, and then Remus could hear Lily speaking so soft it was difficult to make out her words.

"What if he has?" she repeated. "He'll be with them; maybe he'll be happier this way…"

"Maybe," James said, and Remus' fear seemed to crush him on realising his voice was not indignant anymore, but thoughtful, "and it would not be bad if Greyback wasn't working for the Death Eaters."

Nobody spoke for a long moment and Remus felt he could not take it any longer.

Making loud noises, he climbed the short steps and knocked on the door. Maybe it was his imagination but it felt as if he had startled the people inside the house.

The tip of a wand pointed at him.

"It is I," he said, trying hard to make his voice sound normal, "Remus."

"Oh, hello," James opened the door, he was smiling feebly and for a brief moment, Remus thought about pointing his own wand at his neck and cry out every thought that was running through his mind?

_Me? Joining the werewolves? After all I know about them? You were there, James! With me, when Moody told us all about them! You know how it is! You've seen them. And you still believe I'd join them?_

"You coming in?" James asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Sure."

Remus walked into the living room. Sirius and Lily were there, quiet. Even if he had not listened to their conversation the atmosphere was that of people who had hastily interrupted something.

"Remus, so glad you could make it," Lily said.

"You all right, mate?"

_How do you dare asking if I am right? I've not joined Greyback, not the Death Eaters! I'd never do that! And yes I'm perfectly fine! Or I was right before finding out what you think about me!_

"Fine, fine, what happened?" he tried hard to keep the coolness out of his voice but he feared he was failing miserably.

"Let's wait for Peter to join us, shall we?" Lily said, pointing at a chair for Remus to sit.

She looked very pale; he would want to ask her what was going on but the cold fury inside him was ordering him to keep his mouth shut and his fists clenched.

Nobody spoke for a moment and when somebody finally knocked on the door, the relief was almost tangible. James stood up and a second later, he came back, Peter trailing behind. He gave everybody a weak smile.

"Sorry it took me some time, I was asleep," he said.

"We're sorry for having called you this late, mate," James said. "The thing is," he addressed the rest, "something serious has happened and Dumbledore wants us to go into hiding. He'll be here anytime to perform the spell."

"Why?" Remus asked, his curiosity much stronger than his fury.

"Apparently he had a tip off Voldemort is coming after us," he said simply.

Remus looked at Lily, her eyes were fierce and they seemed much bigger in her pale face.

"Why you?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," James replied.

It all seemed so strangely calm. They were talking about the most powerful wizard of all times targeting them and yet there were no cries, no outraged expressions, apparently not even fear.

"Dumbledore's suggested we perform a Fidelius Charm on this house and we'd stay in here until this all this gets sorted out-"

"Wait a moment," Remus said, "what sort of tip off that was? I mean, we've been hearing a lot of things and half of them had been true at all. How does Dumbledore know this one is for real?"

"This is my wife and son we're talking about," James said and the coldness of his voice hit Remus as a curse. "I won't sit and wait. We're not taking risks."

"So you need a secret keeper," Sirius said, matter-of-factly. "I'll do it."

At Remus' side, Peter seemed to want to say something, but he closed his mouth.

_Who's right? Peter? Sirius? Is any of them a traitor? _

"Dumbledore's volunteered to be the secret keeper," Lily said.

"I don't think that's a great idea," James replied. "He's way too important and the sure target of many Death Eaters."

"Better chose somebody unimportant," Peter said softly. "It could be me."

Remus could not take it any longer. He was not able to distinguish true from lies anymore but maybe there was still something he could do. For if any of them was the traitor, James and Lily could as well knock on Voldemort's door and if it was in his power, he needed to stop them.

"I'll do it," Remus stood up. "I'll be your secret keeper, James."

He could feel the atmosphere drop several degrees while they all were looking at each other.

It was Lily the one who spoke first, and later Remus would say that the fact that it had been her had hurt the most.

"I don't think so, Remus. Thank you." Her smile did not reach her eyes. "But… you're always so busy and working so hard. We… we wouldn't want to burden you with this."

"Yeah, mate, there's no need…"

James voice died. Inside, Remus' fury seemed too great to be contained.

"There are so many lies going on all around us. So many hidden things…" he didn't know how to go on.

He wanted to point at Sirius and at Peter. He wanted to say he had been suspecting Peter and that he had been suspecting Sirius. And that he knew none of them trusted him and that whatever he said, they would not believe him.

"I think it'll be better if Sirius does it," James spoke again, but Remus barely heard him.

What a fragile thing trust was and how terrible it was to lose them.

"Fine," he finally said. "Fine."

He looked at each of them for a moment.

He wished he could see there what he had always seen back at school, friendship, complicity, comfort. He could not find any of it.

Without another word, he turned on his heels and headed to the door. A moment later he had Apparated at his apartment.

Bent over on the floor, he felt weak and lonelier than ever.

* * *

**AN: Yeah, it is getting darker and I'm sorry. Bright times will come to Remus, but not yet.**

**I'd like give some special thanks to TearsOfaSingingPhoenix, who's leave two fantastic reviews both here and at Tonks'. Thank you very much! Also very many thanks to login password [thanks for finding mistakes!], tt crews [yeah, James is still fighting, but Lily isn't], QueenCobraWing, strukkfirst, NeverBeenDarkMarked, ludmilla, Louey06!**

**Cheers!**


	30. The small piece of parchment

**AN: Harry Potter does not belong to me. I do have the books though...**_  
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****_November 1981._

Remus looked at the small piece of parchment in his hand, turning it over distractedly, as if there he would find the answers to so many unspoken questions.

Of course, there was nothing.

The tiny note contained only a few words:

_The Potters live in Number 3,__ Vine Yard, Godric's Hollow. _

Almost one week after the meeting at James and Lily's house, he had received the information. He did not even recognise the square letters. He remembered Sirius' handwriting to be really messy at school. Now it seemed he had taking some effort in making the small bold letters to look legible at least. Remus would have chuckled at the thought of Sirius slowly writing it, if it had not been absolutely irrelevant now.

"You got it?" Frank asked, his hand outstretched.

Remus nodded and handed him the parchment back.

With the tip of his wand, the Auror ignited it and blew away the ashes.

"Have you been there to see them?" Remus asked mostly to have something to say that would break the inexplicably heavy silence between them.

"Nah, not yet," he said. "Neville's got a cold; we'll wait until he gets better."

Remus had gone home shortly afterwards. He had not known what else to say, everything sounded forced. More frequently now he was yearning for the night to come, in order to be back at his place, alone, without that heavy feeling of everybody looking at him with mistrust.

He was probably getting paranoid. There had been nothing different in Frank and Alice's attitude, nor in Moody's. And since his last time at Godric's Hollow, he had not seen James, Sirius or Peter. None of them had looked for him and he was not going to impose his presence either.

He wondered, tough, why they had trusted him with their whereabouts? He was inside the Fidelius Charm now. Following their train of thought, he could be a risk. Were they trusting him again?

Of course, Frank had destroyed the information, there was no way he, Remus, could pass it to anybody. And yet, he could perfectly go there and… and what? Kill them? The sole idea was so ridiculous, so grotesque, he would have laughed out loud had it not been other circumstances.

Maybe, at first, they had not wanted him inside the secret; none of them trusted him anymore; that had been stated plainly. And now?

It would have been odd not to get him inside the Fidelius Charm. Nothing had been said aloud, there was no prove they did not trust Remus. Although the atmosphere inside the house had spoken volumes, the truth was they had never actually said anything about… about nothing really. If he had not eavesdropped outside their house, he could have remained oblivious to the way they actually felt about him.

So now were they letting him in, so, in case Remus had not felt it back then, he would not get suspicious?

_Why? Because if I think they don't trust me any more would I call my… 'boss' and tell him to blow up the house?_

He thought about how hastily Frank had burned the parchment. Had he been scared Remus would keep it and show it to somebody else? Was it just regular Auror procedure or had James and Lily told him their fears?

He could not continue like this, it was like a never-ending spiral, taking him further down the path of his own grim thoughts. It was not good for anybody. Not the Order, nor him. And he needed to stay focus to continue with his work, to continue with the fight.

A soft knock on his door made him startle. It was very late, Remus had been reading, half asleep; he was not expecting visitors and, for a wild moment he imagined it was Peter, coming here to tell him that he did trust him and to plan something out, together, in order to unmask the traitor inside the Order.

"Who is it?"

"It is I, Dumbledore."

Remus stood still for a fraction of a second. His former Headmaster had never been to his flat before.

A moment later, he was opening the door.

Albus Dumbledore looked many years older than the last time Remus had seen him. Had it been only a couple of weeks ago? Still, he seemed to be very tired, his skin paler and his wrinkles more pronounced.

"Good evening, Albus," he said.

"Remus," he nodded.

For a moment none of them spoke and Remus thought how odd it was for the Headmaster not to take control of the situation right away.

"Please, do come in," he said.

Dumbledore stepped inside and turned around to face him.

"I am burdened with very sad news, Remus."

"What is it?" he knew what it was as the words were being said. _Who is it?_ would have been a better question.He had seen this face before; it was the one that preceded the announcement of somebody being killed.

"James and Lily are dead," he just said.

It seemed to take a very long time for the words to reach Remus. As if they suddenly meant something else, and he could not quite realise what.

Without being aware of it, he sat on the rickety couch, staring blankly at Dumbledore.

"How?" he finally asked, and it seemed that the voice belonged to somebody else.

"Voldemort found them."

_Voldemort...? But there was...?_

"What about the Fidelius Charm?" he snapped.

Dumbledore sighed and Remus looked at him again. He had not sat down, but was standing in the hall, looking at him with an expression flickering between rage and the deepest sadness.

"It is clear," he said, his voice seemed to break a little, "that they had placed their trust in somebody unworthy of it."

Remus felt his insides froze.

"Sirius," he muttered.

He was on his feet his wand drawn, ready to Disapparate, to go wherever he had a minimum chance of finding him.

"Sirius!" he was now yelling. "How could he?! How could he do this to them?! To him?! He was his brother!"

Dumbledore had placed both hands on his shoulders and Remus could feel force emanating from his grip. He tried to shake him off but he could not.

"Let me go, Dumbledore. Let me find him! Let me make him pay!"

"No, Remus, listen!" the Headmaster's voice reverberated against the wall, his arm now clutching on Remus' with much more strength he would have expected from such an old man.

Remus struggled for a moment.

"I don't want you to die as well!" Dumbledore said again. "Aurors and Hit-Wizards are looking for him, they'll find him!"

"They won't!" Remus said bitterly. "He's got his master's protection, hasn't he?"

"That's the thing. Voldemort is gone."

Again, it took Remus a moment to understand the meaning of Dumbledore's words. He finally stopped struggling

"What do you mean 'gone'?"

The Headmaster released him, gave a couple of steps and finally sat down. After a moment of hesitation, Remus imitated him.

"I am not sure of the reasons," he sighed and, despite of the display of energy from a moment ago, Remus had the vague impression again of being in front of somebody very, very old and tire. "I want to explain to you a few things, for there had been a turn in the events. Right before the Fidelius Charm was performed; I put a trace on James and Lily's house, a warning. It was to alert me if something beyond regular magic would happen around the house. Tonight, I got the warning and I went to the place as fast as I could. It was too late when I arrived there."

"But wasn't there something you could-?"

"There was a survivor," Dumbledore interrupted. "And I got this memory from him."

He produced a tiny glass phial, filled with silver thoughts.

"Who?"

"Little Harry is alive."

Remus stared blankly at him, all his previous outburst of energy seemed to have been drain at this information.

"Did Voldemort spare him?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I took this memory," he continued, "right before summoning Hagrid to rescue him and keep him away from the place for a while. It shows us something extraordinary." Dumbledore pocketed the memory again and continued. "Somehow the Killing Curse could not harm the boy. It bounced off against his caster."

Remus swallowed a couple of times.

"Do you mean he's dead? Because of Harry?"

Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"Not dead, no. I don't think he's... able to die. Many people are willing to believe it, of course, but I think I know better. For year I have tried to follow him, I have started researching in his life and past. I think he would have taken precautions against his own death. No, Remus, I think he is terribly wounded, and therefore he might come back, but not now. Right now he does not present an immediate threat."

For a moment, engrossed in the Headmaster's explanations, Remus had forgotten what had brought him to his flat in the first place.

"So now... the war is over..."

"It seems to be safe to assume that, for the time being, yes, it is over."

"And James... and... and Lily..." Remus heard his voice break and he swallowed yet another time. His grief would have to wait, he had much more pressing questions. "Then he, Harry, is unprotected. Sirius might want to come back and finish what his master could not do." He stood up, his wand at the ready, "I must get to him and I'll-"

"You'll do nothing, Remus." Dumbledore voice, suddenly strong, made him look at him. "This is not your fight."

"Of course it is my fight! He killed my best friends! He ruined everything we had!" Why was it so difficult for the old man to understand? "He made them have doubts about me! I need to see him, his good-for-nothing face, I need to punish him, I want him to know... to remember, I..." without being able to stop, a sob escaped his lips. Remus cleared his throat. "I want revenge, Dumbledore. I want to see the end of him."

The Headmaster's expression had changed. He looked as if he had been forced to carry the sorrow of countless generations on his shoulders.

"He will get his punishment, Remus. They will capture him. He is no longer under the protection of Voldemort, nor of the Death Eaters. They probably think he is a traitor and they will want to kill him. He has nowhere to hide. The Aurors and the Hit-Wizards will find him and he will be send to Azkaban, where he will spend the rest of his life."

Remus wanted to say that it was nothing close to what he deserved, that he wanted Sirius to die a painful death. A new idea came to his mind though. Azkaban. He would not die, at least not right away, it would be much worse. He would be forced to be there with the worst side of himself. What better punishment could there be for what he had done?

"What will happen to Harry?" the sudden thought replaced for a moment every possible revenge he could think against Sirius.

"Right now, Hagrid is taking care of him. He will be given to his aunt and uncle later today; they are going to take care of him until he is ready to go to school."

Remus had to think for a moment. James did not have any siblings-

"Lily's sister? The Muggle?"

"It will have to be her, since she is the only family the boy has."

"I'll take care of him," Remus said, for a wild moment he even pictured himself being able to teach a little boy about so many things. "I'll arrange for somebody to take care of him on full moon nights. I know I don't have much money but I could-"

"I appreciate your offer," Dumbledore cut across, "for I know that it would mean asking a lot from you, starting by changing your way of life. But no, Remus. He needs to be raised by his relatives. He will be away from the Magical world, away from people staring at him and spoiling him. It has to be this way."

Remus sad down again and bowed his head.

"It's because of me being a werewolf, isn't it?"

"I have never had an issue with that and I never will," Dumbledore's voice was cold, and Remus felt forced to look into his eyes. "Not everything in your world depends on you being a werewolf or not, nor do the reactions of the people around you. It is time for you to convince yourself from that. It is time for you to stop excusing everything on full moons, because, forgive me, that is a very foolish excuse."

Remus did not know what to say. Never in his life had he heard his old Headmaster talk to him like this.

"The boy needs to be with his relatives, it is the best for him. And you," his voice was kinder now, "you need to find your own path. I know that it is close to tactless from me to tell you this, now that it might seem that your world is crumbling apart, but believe me, Remus, you will get through this. You need to do so. Now you will have to find your own path and try to make the best of this life of yours."

Remus shook his head.

"How can you ask that for me, Dumbledore?" his voice was weak again and he felt something breaking inside him.

"They are going to capture Sirius, Remus. If you think it will be better for you, if it will give you some peace of mind, I can grant you access to Azkaban when that happens."

"I... I thought visitors are not allowed."

"There are not. But exceptions can be made, given the circumstances."

_Given the circumstances_.


	31. The encompassed sound of the waves

_November 1981._

The encompassed sound of the waves against the rickety boat was somehow reverberating over the blowing of the wind and the pumping of Remus' own heart. The squat man sitting in front of him stopped pointing his wand at the head of the vessel and took the rows instead.

"Tricky coast," he muttered to nobody in particular.

Remus could not see how using rows could make their journey any easier. It could have something to do with the enchantments protecting the place, or maybe it was just the tool the man felt more comfortable with. What useless ramblings, he thought; it was plain he was trying hard to think about something else, anything else at all.

There was, of course, the possibility of Apparating on the island. That especial clearance had not been granted to him, though, and he should be grateful enough as it was. His coming there at all was a remarkable feature itself. Once again, he was to thank Dumbledore for that. And yet, looking at the enormous dark mass against the overcastted sky he asked himself once more if his coming here would be for better or worse.

There was no going back now and part of him did not want him too. There was a debt he had to pay, if only with his conscience. It was the only thing he had left. Everything else, everybody else was dead.

He had not being that sure about coming here when Dumbledore first suggested it. And then, Sirius had killed Peter and all those Muggles. After the betrayal that had caused James and Lily's deaths, Remus would have thought the situation could not get any worse. How mistaken he had been about so many things.

While the boatman manoeuvred between the rocks, Remus tried to convince himself that the Headmaster was right: there was nothing for him to do, except to follow his own path. It seemed so ironic now. From the four of the, the only one who did not seem to have a path at all, the werewolf, would be the only survivor.

Finally the boat reached a small stone pier.

Remus looked at his companion, forming a silent question.

"I'm not going in there, no sir. Wait for yer comin' back."

He just nodded, and jumped into the pier. Nobody was there to greet him, but that was something to be thankful rather than regretful. There was no dweller in the island of Azkaban he wanted to see, except that particular one.

Clenching his teeth Remus headed to a large set of stairs carved on the rock. It was a long climb but the exercise was helping to maintain his focus; he was not trying to push thoughts aside anymore, now he needed to summon the right ones. Just one step at the time, just one thought, just a handful of phrases and maybe, just maybe he would reach that longed closure Dumbledore had talked about. It was worth the risk, and he had nothing else to do.

He had finally reached a small courtyard, the wind was blowing much stronger up there; Remus wrapped his travelling cloak tighter around his frame and waited. Arches surrounded the place, the bigger of them lead to the tower. There was an inscription on top of it and Remus had to read it a couple of times before making something out of the words: _All pain is a punishment, and every punishment is inflicted for love as much as for justice._ It was just fitting; he could not think of a better phrase to sum up his condition.

In his life there had been love, of course, but it had been other kind of love. What was left now was this particular sort of love, the one inflicted through pain and suffering. The odds were, this was going to be life for him from now on. It could not be otherwise, he did not deserve anything else.

A tall, dark figure emerged from under the archway and glided in his direction. Remus could feel a cold shiver running down his spine. He knew there were Hit-Wizards somewhere in the fortress. Why would they send a Dementor instead of a human was something he could not understand, but then again, there were too many things he did not understand. He could not think any further though; the chill was crashing against his bones, as if it was coming from his insides, and in an instant his mind was filled with images, cries, despair.

He had to be strong, he knew this was coming; this was going to be the opportunity to test if all his training had not been useless. Reaching into an inside pocket of his robes, he produced the piece of parchment Dumbledore had given him. The Dementor stretched a rotten, bony hand and took it. Remus had to fight hard for not to shudder at the sight.

_The werewolf had awoken, hungry and furious, he needed to be fed, he had to placate that terrible hunger that was filling his insides. Something was compelling him to hurt, to bite, to inflict as much pain as possible._

He needed to focus.

The enormous creature gave a tiny nod and turned around; Remus followed him even though it felt as if that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He remembered Alice's last advice: try to focus on despairs of you being human, not the beast. He had sniggered then and he could practically snigger now. There were plenty of those too and, where they much better than the memories of him being a werewolf?

_Of course they are, that is a very stupid question._

Remus forced another sort of memories onto his head; he had been practicing this and it had been very painful, but now it was time to prove it had been useful as well. As he followed the dark figure gliding in front of him, its rattling breath mixing with the blowing of the wind, he forced to remember her mother's hands, fussing over his wounds after his first transformation. Her eyes filling with tears and her jaw set, trying hard to hide her sorrow in front of her child. His father, so many years afterwards, embarrassed and apologising to him, crying, his head buried on his hands. Mary, looking at him with hurt and disdain…

"_I don't think so, Remus. Thank you." Lily's smile did not reach her eyes. "But… you're always so busy and working so hard. We… we wouldn't want to burden you with this."_

"_Yeah, mate, there's no need…"_

James had always been a good liar; he had had to be, in order to carry on with all possible mischief at school. And yet that time it had been more than plain he had been lying. And the reason for doing so was even more evident. He had not trusted him, nor had the others.

Remus and his guide had reached another flight of stairs; on top of them an iron gate was closing the path. The Dementor put his hand on the latch and it opened with a clanging sound. The darkness and the dampness of the place filled Remus' senses. Without waiting for an indication from his guide, he opened his hand, desperately wanting something warm and bright. It took him several attempts to produce the dancing flames.

_Albus Dumbledore looked many years older than the last time Remus had seen him. Had it been only a couple of weeks ago? Still, he seemed to be very tired, his skin paler and his wrinkles more pronounced._

"_Good evening, Albus," he said._

"_Good evening, Remus."_

He shook his head as an unconscious attempt to get rid of the voices inside it. It was working though, Alice had been right. Even though images of the werewolf kept popping into his head, they were insubstantial in front of those other much more fresh memories, his human memories.

There was an eerie silence surrounding them. On a landing they passed another Dementor and Remus had to focus on his hand and on the flames on it to drown the sob forming on his throat. His guide was now gliding down a dark corridor. There were doors at both sides, with small windows. Remus peeked through one of them and saw a figure bent over on the ground, rocking slightly.

The sound of dripping water and the echo of his own steps were the only tangible thing he could concentrate on, in order to keep his own memories at bay.

Finally, the dark figure stopped next to a closed door; even if there had not been a sign with the name scribbled on it, Remus was sure this was the place. Just as the Dementor had done before, he touched the latch with his rotten hand.

Remus closed his eyes and extinguished the flame in his hand. There was no going back.

Sirius was crouched on a corner, covered in dirty rags. It seemed to take him a moment to realise somebody was in there with him. Finally he looked up, and of a moment Remus had the impression he did not believe his eyes.

Remus could not believe his either. Sirius had been in the prison for no more than a fortnight and he already looked like somebody else. His skin was pale, and it seemed to be hanging loosely from his bones; his eyes looked too big for his head and his hair was dirty and entangled.

For a long moment they looked at each other. This time Remus did nothing to prevent his worst memories to fill his mind, each one of them. He knew he had mastered them, he knew he would hold on just fine. Right now, he needed those memories to fuel his will, to make him do what he had came in here to do.

"Remus," Sirius finally said in a hoarse whisper.

It was as painful as a punch in the guts, and yet, Remus did not move a muscle.

"You have to save him, Remus, he's in danger!"

The unexpected rise of Sirius' voice made him take a step back and clutch his wand on his pocket, before he could make something out of the words.

"They'll come after him! He was… It was Peter-"

"SHUT UP!" Remus' roar drowned Sirius' voice. "You are not to speak to me."

He drew his wand and pointed at him.

"I am sure they don't mind what I do to you, and neither do I."

"Remus," it was almost like a plea and it took every ounce of Remus energy to ignore the image of a much younger, handsome Sirius, looking at him like that, saying that he was sorry, that he had not thought of the consequences of it, that he only wanted to teach Snape a lesson. "You have to listen to me! I'm guilty, but it wasn't me, it was Peter! He was the one who-"

"Peter is dead! You killed him!"

Sirius opened his mouth and with a hastily flick of his wand, Remus casted a silencing charm.

"I SAID YOU ARE NOT TO SPEAK!" he took a deep breath "I don't want to hear you, and after today, I won't ever lay eyes on you again."

Sirius recoiled, his hands on his throat, opening and closing his mouth several times; for a moment he seemed to want to disappear inside the stone wall.

"You have as good as killed them: James, Lily, Peter. And you would have killed Harry too! And even though you _boss_ is gone," Remus sneered, "there is no coming back for them. There is no coming back for me either. You," he could practically feel the coolness on his eyes," have successfully destroyed everything we all held dear once. And I should have seen it coming."

Unable to speak, Sirius stretched a hand towards him but Remus ignored it.

"They were the best of people, Sirius. The boy was your godson, for Heaven's sake! And James… he was your best friend, your brother, he would have died for you, all of us would! They were young, they had all their life ahead of them. We all had!"

Remus gave a couple of steps and faced the wall. He could feel tears forming on his eyes and he did not want to give Sirius the satisfaction of seeing them as well.

"You must be proud! An honourable member of the House of Black, a traitor, a murderer; you've surely lived up to your great ancestry. You have no honour and the only think I could wish for you is a long life in here." He turned around and approached Sirius. "Because rotting all eternity in hell is not enough for you!"

Sirius recoiled, yet again, as if he was expecting Remus to punch him.

For a long moment, both men stared at each other. Again, Remus felt as if a much younger person was looking back at him, scared, desperate, and miserable.

He could not take it anymore. Turning on his heels, he exited the small cell and closed the wooden door behind him. Without waiting for the Dementor to catch up with him, he climbed down the stairs, almost running, and headed to the exit.


	32. I wouldn't take that extra one

_December 1981._

"I wouldn't take that extra one if I were you."

Remus tried to focus his gaze in the person who had spoken. The blurred shape became a little sharper and he recognized the red top and the curly brown hair of a woman he had seen sitting at the bar, a couple of stools away from him. Apparently she had come nearer.

"Why not?" he asked with a husk voice, taking the small shot the bartender had just placed in front of him, and giving it a pointed look, as if he wanted to figure out its content.

"Don't take it the wrong way, mate, but I reckon you're already much more wasted than what's reasonable."

Remus chuckled even though he had the feeling he would never find anything funny in his life again.

"And what would be reasonable?" he asked. "The whole point of getting drunk is to forget to be reasonable, isn't it?"

The woman smiled.

"I think the whole point of getting drunk is to forget. Period."

Remus nodded, and drained the content of his shot.

"Think you're right."

"So, have you?"

He had to think for a long moment before realising he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Have I…?"

"Have you forgotten already? Whatever it is that makes you drink eight shots in less than half an hour?"

Remus raised an eyebrow, his interest suddenly piqued.

"Keeping count, have you?"

"Just checking on you," she shrugged and approached her lips to his ear, as if she were about to make a great revelation. "You look half decent," she whispered strong enough for her voice to be heard over the general noise of the pub.

The unexpected gesture sent a funny shiver down Remus' spine. Suddenly he felt the urge to touch the woman's hand; he wanted to be sure she was real and not a product of his drunken imagination. Stuff like this didn't happen to him, not ever. He knew somebody who was used to women checking on him, but even drunk he was not going to think about Sirius.

"So," the woman sat straight again and smiled, "it is forgotten then?"

"Forgotten…" he said, half way between a question and a statement.

_Moody's Patronus had just vanished in mid air and Remus was wishing he could replay what it had said, or forget it all and pretend he had never got the message. _

_The apparent flight of Voldemort had brought about an outburst of happiness and light headiness for everybody but him. He had faced with it the death of everything he had once believe in and sometimes a half-form thought would made its way on his mind. _Was it fair?

_But it was over now, or so he had thought. Without a leader, how much damage could the Death Eaters do? And what for? _

_How mistaken had he been. _

_Hastily grabbing his jacket, he exited the flat and headed to the subway. He was about to meet much more pain, but there was no choice. _

"I don't think I'll ever forget," he blurted.

He wave at the bartender who hurried in his direction.

"I'll have-"

The woman placed a hand over his.

"He's not having anything more, thank you," she smiled to the bartender who grunted something indistinguishable and went to the other end to attend another customer demands.

"Why did you do that for?" Remus asked, annoyed.

"Because you've had enough, I've told you," the woman moved nearer and he felt her leg slowly brushing against his.

It was like fire. He suddenly became conscious that her hand was still on his, and she did not seem likely to move it away.

"Whatever the reason is, the only thing you'll get is a heck of a hangover tomorrow; that'll be another sad memory to add to your collection."

Remus chuckled again.

"What do you know?"

"I recognise the type," the woman lifted a finger and caressed Remus' cheek. "Young, handsome but not taking proper care of yourself these days… was it a woman?"

Remus sighed.

"Not a woman, no. There hasn't been one… well, ever, I guess."

"That's something you should work on, shouldn't you?"

_There was an unusual amount of people on St. Mungo's ground floor. Two wizards in lime green robes were trying to keep the crowd inside the waiting room, trying to prevent them to climb upstairs. On a closer look, Remus realised they were journalists. _

_Of course, now that the magical population felt they were safe, something like this happening would certainly be on the front page of every publication._

_He approached the front desk, trying hard to look casual and keep his voice low._

"_Yes?" the witch behind the desk asked, looking sourly at some parchments in front of her._

"_I'm here to see the Longbottoms. Auror Moody said they're waiting for me."_

"_Name?" she asked, without looking up._

"_Remus Lupin," he almost whispered._

"_What's that?"_

"_Remus Lupin," he repeated._

"_Fourth floor."_

_Ignoring the reporters and the wizards he headed for the stairs and climbed them, first two at the time, then he went slower and slower with every passing step and ward. What was the hurry anyway? The damage had been done; there was nothing he could do to prevent it._

_Finally he reached the fourth floor. A sign on the wall read "Spell Damage" but he did not see it at once. The place was almost as crowded as the ground floor but unlike that crowd, the people up here were quiet or whispering in hushed tones._

_An old lady was carrying a baby, her eyes were red and puffy but there was determination in her expression. He recognised the kid, Frank and Alice's son, and he assumed the woman would be his grandmother._

"_Lupin," Mad-Eye's voice came from behind him._

_Just like the impression he had had when Dumbledore had showed up in his flat, the Auror looked many years older than the first time Remus had seen him, and it had been mere days ago._

"_What happened?"_

_Moody grabbed his upper arm and pulled him into a corner, away from the waiting people._

"_Pretty much what I've already said. They were tortured. We don't know who did it, but we suspect the Lestranges were involved. They've been seen in the vicinity."_

"_Have you captured them?" _

_Moody clenched his fists on the handle of his walking stick._

"_Half of the Aurors are looking for them. It's a matter of time."_

"_I want to go too."_

"_There's no need for you to do that, we need you to do something else. Something much more urgent"_

_Remus looked puzzled at Mad-Eye. Why was everybody keeping him from actually joining the fight? Besides, was there something more urgent than capturing the remaining Death Eaters?_

"_They… they're not well, Frank and Alice."_

"_Are they hurt?"_

_Moody didn't speak for a long moment._

"There won't be any women," Remus said harshly.

His companion opened her eyes wide for a split second and then smiled.

"Oh well, a guy then. That can be arranged."

Remus smirked grimly. How surreal it was to be talking about such silly things after… everything.

"It's not like that, I _do_ like women."

The woman's posture relaxed a little.

"Oh. So, then… you're not a priest, are you?"

"No, I'm certainly not. Far from it."

"Then, I don't see the reason for the lack of women. You're good looking, and as I've said, you seem to be decent enough… of course," she came even closer and rested her other hand on Remus' forearm, "you have this drinking problem…"

"I don't have a drinking problem," he snapped.

"Oh no, of course not," she laughed softly. It was a nice sound.

Remus suddenly felt he needed to make something clear.

"Listen… uhm…"

"Laura."

"Listen, Laura, this is not me," he stuttered a little, he was having some difficult in putting word together. Maybe she had been right about not drinking that last shot. "Not me at all. I never drink, I never talk with strangers in Muggle bars and I never ever let anybody feel pity for me. Understand?"

"I don't pity you," she said. "And what does Muggle mean anyway?"

"Never your mind."

"What a charmer," she said cheery.

"I wasn't trying to be one."

The woman laughed softly.

"Of course you weren't. So, tell me, why is it that there won't be any women in your life? Personally, I'd say it's a waste."

"_They're hurt all right," Moody finally answered, "in a way I've only seen once and I would have given my other leg gladly just not to see it again."_

"_What happened?"_

_Moody sighed._

"_They… the Healers' opinion is that they might never recover from this. They're much damaged. You know… the Cruciatus Curse doesn't kill you. If you're weak, you pass out, and it might take a lot of effort to bring you back when the curse is finally lifted but… but if you're tough… and Merlin those two were the toughest I've ever seen… you just try to resist the pain. Eventually, your brain will try to protect you from all that and it will shut down. From that state, there's hardly ever a way back."_

_Remus tried hard to process it all, while mental pictures of Frank and Alice lying on the floor, twitching in agony, kept flooding in._

"_So now…"_

"_They're… they're not themselves. The Healers are already talking about having to move them to a permanent ward."_

"_They what? What about their families, their son?"_

"_They're going to try to bring them back for a fortnight, but none of them seems to be terribly optimistic about it. If they fail, Frank and Alice would have to stay here. They're… they're hardly alive as it is."_

Amongst the confusion of the alcohol altering his thoughts, Remus tried hard to produce a coherent answer.

"I'd say the obvious: no woman would ever want me. I am not worth it. But it's also that no good ever comes when you attach yourself to people."

"I don't think the obvious is that obvious," Laura said, slowly moving her leg against his.

Remus felt the fire burning inside him again. It was better than the alcohol, much more intense and absolutely unexpected.

"And about attachments…" she bit her lip for a moment and he surprised himself thinking how her mouth would taste like. "I guess you might have it right there."

"I know I have," he said, and he boldly put his free hand on the woman's leg. She did not move; instead, her smile grew bigger. "You can never trust anybody. They'll lie, and betray you, and the moment you'll think everything's all right, they'll disappear on you and you'll stay worse. Not only lonely, but longing for something you thought you once had."

Without knowing how, the woman's lips were pressed to his. It took him a moment to realise what was happening and another one to start kissing her back.

It must have been some strange effect of the alcohol that was making him imagine a gorgeous woman was launching at him, but even if it was not real, it was something he could feel other than grief and anger, and he held to the sensations as if his life depended on him.

Her hands were now on his legs, and he grabbed her arms, pulling her closer, while his lips moved on his own accord on hers.

Laura's lips separated from his and he felt like telling her to go back and continue what she had been doing.

"Let's go somewhere else," she whispered to his ear.

"Where?"

"I'll show you where."

"_What do you want me to do?" Remus asked._

"_We're taking turns. People who'd been close to them are going in there. The Healers reckon there could be a chance if people they know tell them stories about the past, something that might trigger their memories."_

_Remus looked at the closed door on Moody's back._

"_Right now Scrimgeour's with them. He and Frank worked together on a long-term mission not long ago. You could be a better shot. Go on."_

_He would have wanted to say to Moody that he could not do it. That after everything that had happened the past weeks they were asking too much from him, but he did not dare. _

_Clenching his fists he approached the door and entered. It was a long ward with many beds and a couple of smaller doors at the sides. _

"_This one," Moody growled, pointing to one of those. "We've arranged for them to be in a private room."_

_Remus breathed heavily and entered. The room was small and brightly illuminated. Two persons were sitting on unmade beds, wearing night gowns, and a third one was perched on a chair. At the sound of the opening door, he turned around, with an evident relieved expression._

"_I'll get going then," he said to no-one in particular. "Frank, Alice."_

_And without a word to Remus, he exited the room, closing the door behind him._

She was still kissing him, pressing his body with hers to a closed door. Remus could not remember how they had managed to climb what felt like long flights of stairs, not where exactly they were.

"What's your name?" she had asked between kisses.

"John," he muttered.

"I don't believe you."

"I don't care," he put his hands on her hips and pulled her body even closer. "You shouldn't either."

A moment later she had opened the door and was pushing him gently across what looked like a small flat, not unlike his own, and into a bedroom.

Remus realised what was about to happen. For an instant he wondered if this was indeed a wise move, but less than a second later, he decided he did not care. This, whatever it was, was making him feel alive, and able to have experiences and to get something from that life. If this was an opportunity to momentarily forget his sorrow, he would take it.

_He had been talking for what felt like hours and Alice had been looking at him, almost without blinking. Frank, on the other side, had been folding and unfolding a white pillowcase. There was no telling if any of them had understood any of Remus' words._

_Right when he was about to leave, the door at his back opened, and the old lady entered, carrying little Neville. The kid had fallen asleep in his grandmother's shoulder. Remus wondered if it would make any good at all to bring the child; Alice had looked at them with the same polite interest she had shown to him, while Frank had not made a sign of recognition whatsoever._

_He had had enough._

_Ignoring the lady's voice and Moody's call, he exited the ward and climbed down the stairs. He was running away, or so it felt; he could not take it anymore._

The loud hammering seemed to come from the inside of his own skull. Outside the tiny flat, somebody was fixing something and the sounds of the machines practically next to him were not helping the way he was feeling. At his side, Laura was fast asleep, her hand loosely resting on his bare chest.

He tried to remember what had happening the night before. Although the details were blurred, he could practically replay each and every movement he had made after getting into this woman's apartment. If she had noticed he was next to clueless to what to do, she did not say a thing; instead he had the feeling he had been carefully lead in every step.

Remus was not sure how he felt about all this.

He looked at her again. She was older than him, now he could see that. And somehow, he was feeling older as well. Was it only because what had happened last night? No. Las night had been just the last of a long chain of events that had started months ago, all of them leading to… was it emptiness what he was feeling right now?

Remus thought of what would they talk about once she would wake up, he had no idea. He did not know a thing about how this sort of… encounters… would end up, but somehow he felt there would not be any tearful goodbyes or least of all, promises. She did not seem to be the type, though how did he know that, he had no idea.

He had made a fool of himself, there was no doubt, and yet, he did not regret what had happened. Of all the things that had made his insides burn lately, while lying under the sheets with this woman he had felt something different than the fury and the infinite sorrow that usually accompanied him. He would not regret any of it.

He would not stay either.

Gently, he pushed the woman's arm; she moved a little but did not wake up, so Remus stood up, feeling a painful bit on his head. His clothes were everywhere and it took him some time to find it all and get dressed. He remembered carefully trying to hide his wand in his jacket right before taking it off; he was relieved to see it was still there.

His hand was on the door now; he turned around to look at Laura one last time and almost jumped. She was awake, looking at him; Remus tried to find a hint of reproach on her eyes, there was none.

"I'll-" He stuttered.

"You're worth it," she said, cutting across whatever lame excuse he would come out with. "The person, who told you that you're not, didn't know what they were talking about."

He just smiled sheepishly.

"I do hope you'll get to forget, John… or whatever your name is," she said, and then she rolled to her side and covered her back with the blankets.

Remus stood there for a moment, hesitant. She did not move.

Slowly turning around he headed to the door. He needed some fresh air, and, perhaps, a nice strong potion to stop his head from throbbing.

* * *

**AN: Reviewers are the best of people! Cheers!**


	33. He had been trying so hard

_May 1982_

He had been trying so hard to convince himself he did not care, that he had started to believe it was so. Perhaps he had just grown accustom to the idea, perhaps he really did not care anymore. Maybe it was like physical pain: once one has reached what seems to be the highest level of endurance, it stops hurting.

"Go away, son. I think you should," Remus' mother had told him. "But don't run away from anything. You're not escaping, you're starting something new."

He had just nodded back then; it had felt such a futile thing to say. What did it matter what his feelings were about going abroad?

Now it felt different; he was certainly not running away. A stranger in a strange land, he had the impression he was bouncing, first from one Portkey to the next, then from one unknown place to the other, from one acquaintance to the following.

Lost among unknown people, wandering the cobbled streets of the small village, he could almost believe the past months had been nothing but a bad, terrible dream. After all, the war ever so crude and dreadful back home was nothing but a distant notice in this part of Germany.

Dumbledore had hinted that he, Remus, could find some answers here, and by "answers" he knew the Headmaster meant other werewolves.

Along the many losses he had been forced to endure for the past months, this one had been so subtle he had barely registered it. All the hopes for fighting, his own personal reasons which used to fuel his determination in order to win the war, they too had been taken away from him, only, when compared to lost people and destroyed families, they seem to have been useless in the first place.

The calm had been restored, the wizarding population was in control of the Ministry of Magic again and the new organisation had made its business to find and capture each and every one of the remaining Death Eaters. About anything else, they seemed to have forgotten. About fixing things that should have been fixed before the war, they did not care.

Werewolves were still Dark Creature, Beasts, sometimes even suspected of having been in league with Voldemort, and his own personal situation inside the wizarding community had remained the same.

Dumbledore had called him a hero, Moody had grunted in agreement and some unknown people had congratulated him and thanked him. None of those certainly knew they had just shaken a werewolf hand. There was no point on kidding himself; there was no normal place for him now, just as there had not been before the war.

When thinking about werewolves, the only image he could produce was that of the only werewolf he knew. Joining him and his pack was absolutely out of the question. Dumbledore, though, harboured the hope there must be other groups, people like Remus, just joining for practical purposes, living in peace maybe even among wizards.

It all sounded too good to be true but Remus did not want to doubt the Headmaster. For, if he was wrong, who else could he trust?

The only thing he had found after two weeks of travelling was a handful of Muggle legends. Listening to them or reading about them, Remus had realised there were things apparently universal: people here seemed to be as afraid of his kind as in Britain.

Maybe, in other circumstances, the fact would have depressed him, but it had not. And he would think once more that he had reached that fantastic point in which everything seemed to belong to somebody else's life, nothing could touch him anymore. He could not feel a thing.

It took him two long months of bumping from one job to the next, trying to trick local wizards and witches to finally talk about what he desperately needed to know but did not want to ask. It was difficult enough to try to learn the language and blend in, saying that he was a werewolf would not add to the situation.

Now, he finally knew where to look. He had to wait, though. The full moon was near and, even if he had never had any previous experience, his instincts were telling him that it would not be wise to approach unknown werewolves with the transformation approaching.

There had been many full moons he had had to spend without his friends and he was trying his best to forget they had been there once. Now, he had come up with a method. The week before the transformation he would find a deserted place, woods or a swamp or mountains and he would Apparate there the day before, in order to get ready and hide his wand. The mornings after were terrible, he had never have to recover on his own before. And yet, he was managing to do so without getting seriously injured.

It was just one other thing he was getting used to.

He had waited another week after that full moon. The rational part of his brain was telling him it would not be advisable to show up too scarred, the other part, the one he was fighting too hard to control, was just scared.

Later he would have said there had not been a reason to be that scared at all. Far from being a frightening pack, he had found a sad looking group, living in huts in the midst of a forest. Joachim, the leader, was an old fellow that looked around with an air of profound indifference that echoed Remus' own feelings. He even thought it could be a werewolf trait to finally detach from everything else and just exist, waiting for the next full moon.

The dozen men and women living with Joachim accepted him amongst them without asking questions and he was grateful for that. A couple of them would glance at his direction curiously but nobody approached him and nobody talked to him. Once he tried to ask what did they usually do between full moons and as a reply he only got shrugs.

As that date came nearer, a feeling of anticipation was tangible among the members of the pack. They became restless and the few of them who worked both for Muggles or wizards stopped going there and began spending much more time with the pack instead. Remus did not know what to expect, but as an extra precaution, he carefully hid his wand nearby many days in advanced.

He wondered if every more or less large group of werewolf would react like this at the proximity of a full moon or if it was only these individuals. Whatever it was, after a couple of days of having to endure that sort of behaviour, Remus decided he did not like it.

They were no longer indifferent to him. A couple of them tried to fight him for reasons he could not quite understand and he wished he still had his wand with him, useless as it seemed to be. These people were not bothering with wands either and several fist fights broke among the members of the pack so that many of them were severely scarred before the transformation. The only person that had hit Remus on the face with a strong blow was now one of them.

Mere hours previous the rising of the moon, the mood was much subdued. The group had gone silent and many of them were looking at Joachim, as if they were waiting for an indication. The old man, impassive as ever, stayed calm, looking at the distance.

Remus would have wanted for his transformation to wait a bit. He had to admit he was curious on seeing other werewolves transforming. He could not though, for they all started the painful process at exactly the same time. The last thing he remembered was the deafening sound of howls and cries, of snaps and bites, before the creature took over his and everybody else's consciences.

He woke up on the cold earth of the forest. He could not say where he was, only, that he was not alone. Somebody had thrown a dirty rag over his body, there was a person trying to clean her own wounds with water of a nearby spring.

Clenching his teeth he sat up, looking at his own body as he always did, to find particularly severe wounds that needed to be looked after. Fortunately there was nothing too serious.

"You look at that bite," the woman said, without looking up at him. It was one of the persons that seemed to have been more curious about him.

"I didn't know you speak English," was the first thing Remus said.

"Only a little," she said. "See that bite," she repeated.

"What bite?"

"On your…" she pointed at her own leg and Remus looked at his. There was a strange-shaped wound, much larger than the very old scar underneath it. Both had the shape of a half moon.

He touched the borders of it softly. It burned and felt hot under the tips of his fingers.

"What bit me?"

The woman made an impatient sound.

"I know not," she said. "Me? The others?"

Remus' could not say what shocked him the most. The fact that he had been bitten by a werewolf yet again or the nonchalant way the woman was talking about it.

She just shrugged, and continued cleaning her own wounds.

"Does this happen frequently?" he asked.

She looked at him puzzled.

"Do you always bite?"

The woman repeated the impatient sound.

"That is what we do. Not always. Only when we are annoyed."

Remus limped towards her and sat at some distance, close enough to take some water from the spring as well.

At the contact with the cold liquid, the burning on his leg grew stronger. Remus had to bite his lip in order to retain a cry of pain.

"You are annoying, I think," the woman said again.

It took Remus a moment to realise she had just make a joke.

"Am I?"

"They bite you in your first night."

For a moment he doubted about asking his next question. Finally he made up his mind; this woman would be as good as anybody.

"What happens when we bite each other?"

This time the woman laughed harshly.

"Nothing," she finally said. "The wound infects perhaps."

Remus waited for another moment.

"Were you bitten last night?" he finally asked.

"I take care of me," she said, and without another word she turned around and walked away.

Relieved, Remus released the sigh he had been holding. Carefully cleaning his wounds he wondered if he would get used to all of this. Maybe it would have been much easier if he had not known anything else.

* * *

Three months passed and Remus had finally managed to wake up without any werewolf bites; he suspected that was something good. The days between one transformation and the next were very odd though. Even when there was a dozen people living together, going to places and coming back, working and providing for each other, there was rarely a conversation amongst them. Remus' impression of his first days with the pack was confirmed. They merely existed.

And Remus was missing something that had to do not only with humans or werewolves but maybe with life itself. He longed for the Hogwarts' library, or ever for his father's much smaller one, he wished there would be somebody to talk to, he wanted more than just wait for the moon to disappear and then grow large again.

On the eve of the forth full moon he was going to spend with Joachim's pack, there was something else in the air, he could feel it. His companions seemed to have grown restless; this time he had not felt ashamed of ask but nobody had told him what it was. There was something, though, they had admitted it.

He woke up to screams of pain; they were not his own. He seemed to be surrounded by most of the pack and somebody was yelling and sobbing. Hastily he approached the place where the noise was coming from. The rest, for once, was not taking care of the wounds or broken bones, they were surrounding a clear on the ground. Remus pushed some of them to see who had been this badly hurt.

It was a young man he had never seen before; he did not belonged to the pack. From his arm copious amounts of blood were pouring, staining the earth beneath him.

"Let me see him," Joachim pushed him to the side and approached the man on the floor. "We need to stop the bleeding," he added in German, "or he would not make it."

It was so strange to see him actually take command that Remus was startle to see how a couple of people scurried around to obey him, looking for water and clothes.

"Who was it?" Joachim spoke again.

"I think I did it," a short man took a step towards him.

"How do you know?"

"I was alone. When I woke up, he was near me. I think there's my blood as well."

Joachim nodded and bent over to take care of the young man's wound. Carefully he had ripped open his shirt and was cleaning the source of the blood. Finally the wound was exposed: a clean semicircular cut on his forearm. Even if Remus had not gotten many of those the past months, he would have recognised it anywhere.

"He will make it," Joachim said. "We need to hurry though; they'll be looking for us in no time. Pack your things and get ready to go. You did well," he added, nodding at the short man.

"Shouldn't we take him to a hospital?" Remus asked softly. Most of the pack did not hear him but Joachim turned around to face him.

"No need, we'll take care of him."

"But he's… he'll turn into…"

Joachim gave him a long stare, frowning.

"And what do you think was the point of biting him them?"

Remus felt revolted.

"Do you mean he… did he do it on purpose?" he pointed at the short werewolf.

"Do you have a problem with that?" he asked harshly.

"We've been bitten, we bit," Joachim stood between the two of them. "That's the way it is."

Remus took a step back. For a long moment none of them spoke. Behind him, people were packing and looking for missing things.

He had to pack as well.

Only, he did not walk along the pack, nor did he help carrying the wounded man.

He left them, in order to keep on looking what he had not found among these werewolves.


	34. Just standing there and watching

_June 1988_

Just standing there and watching the scene in front of his eyes was proving to be much more difficult than expected. Remus' fingers were aching to take Moody's spare invisibility cloak off and his feet all but wanted to force his entire body to jump the fence and enter the backyard of number four, Privet Drive, where two boys were playing.

No, that was not exactly accurate; the large fat kid was playing with a Muggle toy car while the short skinny one was watching, his face hopeful and his hands deep inside the pockets of way too large trousers.

It was like a miniature copy of his father; the resemblance was so strong it had made Remus actually gasp out loud the moment he had seen him.

Now, though, having observed the kid for a while, the differences were more noticeable. He remembered his eyes being green when he was a baby, as his mother's; from this distance he could not be sure if they had stayed the same with the passed time, but it seemed so.

What an odd feeling. There was the sadness and the emptiness that accompanied his every memory of Lily and the thought of her gone, but also that very strange hope he had felt the moment he had arrived here, on realising that a part of her, a part of James, was alive and very much so.

But here laid the other difference, a difference from his father that was almost painful to watch. While James had been always so full of life and ready to face whatever had been on his way, even in a less than careful way, Remus had the impression his son, Harry, was nothing of the sort. He was just standing there, looking at the other boy bragging about his toy, wishing probably, hoping without taking part. James would have been in the centre of every event, of whatever might be going on. This attitude set this kid so apart from his father that suddenly Remus felt as if the similarities were disappearing.

He could not help but wonder, though, what this boy's life would have been like, had his parents not died.

_Not like this, certainly_.

For a moment, he could picture a scene. James, buying Harry a broomstick and teaching him how to play Quidditch, Lily rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, but actually enjoying the fact that both of them were having such a great time.

And what would have happened if he, Remus, had been allowed to raise Harry?

At the moment it had seemed to be such a good idea. Logical even. After all, he was the only one left.

Now he knew better. Following seven years of wandering and searching, he now knew what a terrible burden it would be for a boy to grow with a werewolf taking care of him. Would he have been like a father to Harry? Of course he would have. And by that he knew he would have marked him as an outcast, made him feel ashamed and humiliated for the rest of his life.

He was much better this way, even if he did not seem to be particularly happy.

Had Dumbledore known when he had told Remus he could not take care of the boy? Probably yes. Only, he had wanted to spare Remus' feelings.

And yet, the image of himself walking down Diagon Alley with this boy at his side, maybe even taking his small hand and showing him this or that, gave him a deep feeling of longing.

Without being able to help it, he thought about his own father, who had summoned him back home because he was dying. It was sad to be with him now. And, if Remus was to be honest, he would have to admit there had always been sadness between him and his there had been a time, long ago, when John Lupin and his son had been able to be next to each other without so many tacit questions and regrets; now it seemed impossible. His father had never gotten over having a werewolf as a son, and above it all, he had never gotten over the fact that it had been his fault.

It had coasted Remus a great deal to finally get over that fact. Shortly after finding out, the crudest of the war had erupted and he had had barely time to think about it. Afterwards, with way too much free time and having talked to many other werewolves in many different places, the idea had grown much stronger.

Of course, his father had been a man of courage, a man of principles. But why had he had to prove them with his own son. Why would he risk it?

And yet, even though the though hunted him from time to time, there was this other memory of shame and unspoken apologies, which had built a wall between his father and him.

A woman's voice urging the boys to get inside took him out of his reverie. Harry obediently headed to the house. The other boy seemed on the verge of making a tantrum. Remus had seen enough. He had to go back to his own life.

* * *

"I can't believe the first time you sneaked up here you were that small," his mother said, somewhere between amusement and awe. She looked out the window of John Lupin's study, down the unkempt garden.

"Me neither," Remus nodded, carefully taking off his black tie and folding it into his pocket.

"You could have killed yourself," she said, almost conversationally.

"Nah, I don't think I would."

Amy Lupin sighed and sat on a chair.

"Lately your father almost never came in here. Not only because of his being ill… I think… I think he surrendered some time ago."

Remus was not sure he wanted to talk about him just yet. The service had been small and quiet, a couple of co-workers of his mother had shown up, so had Dumbledore and Moody. He was glad it had been this small; he did not feel like hearing the sympathies of strange people, or being hug by them.

"His study used to be everything to him, you know," his mother continued quietly. "He was so sure he would find an answer in here. And all this time it had been you the one looking for answers."

"It's always been me… but he never got that right," he said, fighting hard to keep the tone of reproach out his voice.

"Neither did I."

Remus smiled at his mother and gently squeezed her hand.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?"

"For the tenth time, Remus John Lupin, no. Absolutely no," she spoke with a firm voice, just as she had done the previous occasions he had asked that question. "And you better stop asking that, because my answer will always be the same. You need to go back to your life."

_What life?_ He felt like sneering, but it would not do any good to take his bitterness on his mother.

"I don't think my life is that great to begin with," he started softly.

"And still, it's yours. What good would there be for you to stay here and keep and old witch company? You're too old to continue living with your mum!"

Remus chuckled.

"Don't pity me, Remus," she continued. "You father and I knew this would come, and I had plenty of time to get ready. I'll just carry on with my old life, I'll get to work and I'll come back. And I'll miss you both, mind you."

"I could come more often."

"You could write more often."

He chuckled.

"It's difficult sometimes."

"I know."

She opened a book distractedly, and Remus grabbed a carton box. With his wand he levitated some of the oldest volumes inside and sealed it.

"How is that life of yours anyway?" his mother asked.

Remus paused the waving of his wand and carefully placed another pile he had been levitating inside a second box.

"Lonely, I guess," was the first thing he could think of saying. "Never quiet, though. There's always this… need… of moving."

"What about the others?" she asked, and Remus knew she wanted him to tell her about the packs he had encountered.

He had avoided that subject in his too brief letters as much as possible. The wide spectrum of experiences he had lived for the past years had been too complicated, too rich and yet too miserable to put in writing. His missives had been brief and general; he should not be surprised that his mother was curious. He could honestly say she had not known about him for six years.

"They are different," he started, "different from us and different from another."

"How?"

He shrugged.

"Sometimes they are generally peaceful. It's just a group of people living together, waiting for the moon to grow and disappear. They just… exist. The first pack I came across was like that. I think those are the saddest. But then… there are terrible groups," he did not know why so suddenly he wanted to tell his mother everything. He wanted her to see exactly what he had been through. "They wait for the full moon to approach people and bite them. Some of them just want to get to them. Others want to expand their packs."

His mother did not say a thing nor did she move. She was looking at him, drinking from his every word.

"Some others can be nice enough. I've met good people, werewolves or not, wanting to chat and to know. They are scarce though."

She sighed.

"And what about girls?"

Without helping it, he laughed bitterly.

"Honestly, mother, do you think there would ever be a girl in my life?"

"I don't see why not."

Remus smiled at her, this time without bitterness. She was so naïve sometimes, all of them were.

"It's just different for us," he shrugged.

"How so?"

"We… I mean, you, Dad, Dumbledore… even people at school… we thought I could have a normal life. The rest of the world doesn't think like that. Sometimes… sometimes I think it might have been better if you'd just gave me to be raised by a pack."

None of them spoke for a moment.

"You cannot be serious."

It took Remus a moment to realise his mother was on the verge of tears.

"Mum…"

"You cannot be serious," she repeated.

He did not say a thing.

After a long moment he resumed the packing of the books.

"There was a woman once," he felt he needed to break the heavy barrier of silence that had suddenly appeared between them. "I… she was part of one pack I lived with for a while."

He turned around. His mother was looking at him, without making a sound.

"You could say we were… mates or something like that. At a lack of a better term."

He did not elaborate; how could he talk with his mother of all people about that woman that used to visit him at night and lay with him without uttering a word, using him and his body the same way she would use other male members of the pack. Somebody that had been cruel, and cold, and yet, part of his life for a considerable amount of time.

"Did you love her?" she finally asked.

"No," he said honestly. "I don't think I ever felt something for her… except pity, maybe."

For another long moment, none of them spoke.

"It is so much different than everything we could have expected," Remus finally said.

His mother sighed.

"We didn't expect a thing, Remus. That's something you haven't understood yet, have you? That night we thought you were going to die. And afterwards, whenever we'd pick you from the cabin in the garden, the same thought came over us. I had mended your wounds so many times; I had felt your broken bones and had cleaned up the blood off your skin. And yet, each and every time you would get better. You'd be up and about in no time, full with energy to go back to the garden… or climb up this window as I've just learned you did all those years. And afterwards… when Professor Dumbledore came here to tell us you could go to school… well that was something we certainly wouldn't have though would happen. Not in our wildest dreams."

"And what good comes from all that?" again, he could not keep the bitterness off his voice.

His mother smiled at him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't understand it yet. Neither do I, maybe. But I am sure something good had came from all that. You've fought like a hero doing the war and you survived again. And don't start thinking about who didn't survive, there is no good in that," she hastened to say before he could interrupt there. "Things are going to happen to you, good things, I'm sure of that. It might take a while, and it might be difficult, but you have to keep looking, you have to get up, right after every transformation of yours, and get out into the world to continue with your life. You… you just have to."

His mother's voice died. Remus did not know what to say.

"Don't let me stop you," she spoke again. "Go. Tomorrow. Get on with your life or keep looking for it."


	35. Remus did not remember

_August 1992_

Remus did not remember the way between Hogsmeade and the castle being this long. Maybe he had been overly distracted every time he had walked up and down this path, surrounded by friends, plans and excitement.

Now everything seemed to be unseasonably quiet.

He looked up at the still bright sun in the afternoon. It was a clear, hot afternoon; the creatures in the nearby woods were probably lying on the shadows, waiting for the hottest hour to pass before venturing any further.

He could not decide if he ought to succumb to his flooding memories or try his best to keep them at bay. It was a silly thought, he realised. The memories seem to belong to this place and, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he could practically hear his friends' voices and see a bunch of kids running around.

Finally he reached the gates. He did not expect anybody to be there to greet him and yet the massive outline of the gamekeeper was blocking half of the path that leaded to the castle.

"All righ', Remus?" Hagrid voice boomed, disrupting the quiet of the summer afternoon.

"Hello, Hagrid."

"How've ya been?" he gave Remus a pat on the back that almost sent him flying back a couple of meters.

"I've been fine," he gasped.

Hagrid smiled and pointed at the castle.

"Dumbledore's waiting for ya, we better hurry."

"Sure, thanks,"

"You've grown quite a bit, haven't ya?" Hagrid was saying, while walking up the path leading to the castle. "Feels like yesterday the las' time I saw ya."

Remus chuckled, trying to put the sad memories of that last time aside. It had been James and Lily's funeral and he very much doubted he had grown a millimetre since. Hagrid was probably thinking about another time, back at school maybe.

"Thank you for writing me, Hagrid," he said. "I hope my Mum could send you what you wanted?"

"She did, bless 'er. Great woman, yer mum. Wrote a mighty nice letter too. 'Ow's she lately?"

"She's all right."

It had been a short letter that now was lying inside Remus' pocket; it had asked him for old photographs he might have from James and Lily. He had been in Turkey when the owl had finally found him, so he had asked his mother to run through his things and send them to Hagrid.

His curiosity had been awoken, though. In a second letter, Hagrid had told him not only that Harry had nearly finished his first year at Hogwarts, but also about what had happened mere months ago inside the school.

_Dumbledore reckon he's back. You-know-who._

Remus had wasted no time in writing to the Headmaster, asking for a meeting. His letter of response was now lying on his pocket as well. What would they actually talk about, he had only a vague idea. He wanted to know exactly what had happened of course, but why had not he asked in a letter? He had to admit there had been this… very strange feeling of anticipation, as if something would be about to happen. So he had travelled back.

Lost in his own thoughts and trying to stop his mind from imagining a much younger version of himself running through the school corridors so long ago, Remus almost startled when he found himself in front of the stone gargoyle that lead to Dumbledore's office.

"I'll leave ya 'ere," Hagrid said, in a somewhat subdues tone, pointing at the opening on the wall, where the spiral staircase was now visible.

Remus nodded and climbed up. Last time he had been here, he had not been alone, but he was not to think about that particular occasion either. This was another time, another life, and new situation he was about to face.

The stairs came to a halt and the office door opened. Dumbledore was standing on the threshold not looking a day older than the last time Remus had seen him.

"Welcome, welcome back, Remus," he said smiling.

Remus could not help but smile back.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster."

"Come on in, take a sit. And please, Remus, I do beg you to call me Albus."

Remus nodded and took the sit Dumbledore was pointing. The Headmaster took his usual place behind his desk.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" he said, pointing at a bottle filled with amber liquid and two glasses.

Remus shook his head.

"I must say, it was a very nice surprise to get your letter," Dumbledore pointed his long finger to a piece of paper lying on his desk; Remus could make out his own handwriting. "Tell me, Remus, how have you been?"

He weighted his words for a moment. Knowing Dumbledore, Remus knew he would not settle with his usual response: 'fine'.

"It's been… interesting," he started. "At first it was discouraging, I must say. I went abroad full with silly, idealistic ideas, even though I didn't realise it at the time. Later on I lost them and ever since I've been both studying and training, while still looking for others like me, for a group willing to accept me amongst its members."

"Didn't they accept you?"

Remus shook his head.

"I think I've not explained myself correctly. I've been a member of several packs, I've lived with many of them and… I guess you could say I was more or less an accepted member. There were things missing, though. Comradeship is a rare treat in werewolves, so is anything linked to the human world. Most of them just stay close-by, always waiting for the next full moon."

"I see why you didn't…"

"It is very unusual to find a werewolf willing to do something else. They rarely even talk."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, but did not say a thing.

"Sometimes, Albus, I used to think you did me a great damage when letting me come to Hogwarts," Remus smiled, trying to take importance off his words. "I wanted more, you see. I still do. I want to learn, and train, and have conversations, and behave like any other wizard or witch. So far there are just isolated individuals I've found willing to do that. Not packs. I wonder why but, whenever werewolves come together in a pack, the most animal side of them emerges. It's been discouraging."

"And what do you think now?" Dumbledore's eyes were steady on his.

"In the last years I stopped devoting all of my time to searching for packs or isolated werewolves. I just travelled, trying to learn and sometimes even staying in one place long enough to conduct some researches. I never stay that long, though, two or three months after my arrival somebody would eventually notice what I am, and I tried to avoid struggles at any cost."

"I see."

"But I didn't came here tonight to tell you all this, I suppose," Remus smiled at the Headmaster.

"Why did you come here, Remus?"

"I want to know what happened two months ago. Rumour has it, Voldemort is back."

The spark in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to diminish a little.

"Indeed he is," he said. "He's weak, unable to have a body of his own, and as far as I know, he's also without friends or collaborators. But, just as we discussed when he disappeared, that doesn't mean he won't be back."

"Hagrid said Harry Potter met him."

For a moment it seemed Dumbledore was considering what to say.

"He did. He… he is very much like James."

"Physically he is," Remus said, remembering the skinny boy in the back garden, "but I don't think he's got James' nerve."

"Oh, in that you're mistaken," Dumbledore smiled. "He is very much like James, although you might find there are also a lot of Lily's qualities in him. But this time it was James' courage that made him go after what he suspected could be dangerous to the school and, ultimately, he met Voldemort."

"How could he survive?"

"There were many things," Dumbledore spoke slowly, and Remus had the distinct impression there was something the Headmaster was not telling him. "Fortunately I arrived on time to prevent any serious damage."

Remus nodded.

"What do you want me to do?" the words escaped his mouth without him planning them to.

The old wizard considered him for a long moment.

"For a moment you reminded me strongly of an old version of yourself, asking for tasks for the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus did not know what to say.

"You can keep an eye open, of course. I am sure Voldemort would want to come back eventually but, while still trying to gain his strength, he might as well be abroad-"

"I want to come back," Remus interrupted, and again the strength of his determination surprised him. "To stay."

"Do you?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and yet Remus had the impression he was not that surprised.

"I feel that my place is here, doing what I've done best in my life: fight."

"I must disagree with that statement, Remus. I don't think fighting is the best you can do. Of course, in a duel, you are one of the greatest wizards I've ever seen," Dumbledore hastened to say. "And still, forgive me, Remus, but I am certain that you can be much better in many other fields."

Remus shook his head.

"Maybe I could, but we both know there is no place for me to prove that."

He did not intend his voice to sound so harsh but he could not take his statement back. It was true.

Dumbledore just smiled and for a long moment none of them said a thing. Remus knew the Headmaster not the power to stop him from staying back and trying to look for any signs that Voldemort might be trying to come back again, but he also knew it would be much productive if he would work with him.

"Lately I've been training," Remus finally spoke. "I've been learning from different wizards and witches in many places. I think that some of the things I know might be useful."

"I do not doubt that," Dumbledore nodded. "And yet I wonder, would you feel more useful here, though?"

"I think it's here where he will be, eventually."

"Oh, I agree. But is it here where you want to be?"

It was not a difficult question.

"There is nowhere else," Remus said softly.

Dumbledore considered him again, the tips of his long fingers pressed together.

"Faith is something so difficult to explain," he said slowly. "Either you have it or you don't, and moreover, it is almost impossible to change. I wonder why Alastor had faith in you."

Remus raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was following the Headmaster's speech. He smiled.

"I have a lot of faith in people and I am not as foolish as to think that isn't dangerous. Sometimes I have put my faith in people that didn't deserve it. But most of the time, and forgive me to say it so immodestly, my faith has been adequately placed. Alastor Moody, on the other hand, is almost exactly the opposite. Faith for him is a rare treat. And that's when I wonder, what did he see in you that made him place his so very scarce faith in you?"

Remus did not know what to say.

"This is just an old man's rambling, Remus. You should not pay much attention to it… and yet, we both have faith, we are sure about your importance, about the great things you could achieve, about the great possibilities for your future."

For a moment Remus had to fight a snort escaping from his lips.

"But," Dumbledore continued in a more business-like tone, "since you've offered your help so generously, the least I could do is thank you. And yes, I am sure there are a number of things you could do if you are willing to."

"Thank you, Albus."

"I will ask you to get in touch with me as soon as you find yourself adequately settled. For the time being, I will ask you to keep tabs on old Death Eaters. There had been almost not movement whatsoever in all these years, but now that something has happened, we could assume that they might grow restless and try to do something."

There was a tone of dismissal in Dumbledore's voice, and Remus stood up.

"Thank you very much," he said.

"There is something else," the headmaster stood up as well. "Have you heard about the Wolfsbane potion?"

Remus frowned, trying to remember. The word was not completely unknown.

"Has it something to do with aconite?"

"As a matter of fact, it does. It is quite a recent discovery and you might want to look for it. I was reading about that potion not long ago and, as a matter of fact, aconite is one of its main ingredients. Damocles Belby just received the Order of Merlin for inventing it. Its main treat is to prevent the dementia during a werewolf transformation."

It took Remus a moment to understand the full scope of what Dumbledore was saying.

"Do you mean that… that this potion… this Wolfsbane makes a werewolf harmless? Does it prevent him from transform?"

"No, sadly it doesn't," Dumbledore shook his head. "But it does prevent a transformed werewolf to succumb to its natural instincts. It turns him or her into a pacific werewolf, completely harmless and quiet."

Remus did not know what to say. The existence of such a potion would mean that he would not have to Apparate away every time the full moon was approaching, it would mean he did not have to fear for others, he would almost lead a normal life! It sounded way too good to be true.

"You might want to look for it," Dumbledore added.

He just nodded, and shook the Headmaster's hand.

"Thank you for meeting with me."

"Thank you, Remus."

He was opening the door when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Incidentally…"

"Yes?"

"How would you like to teach, Remus?"

"Teach?"

He stared blankly at Dumbledore while the word seemed to reverberate inside his head.

"There was a position here at Hogwarts I am sure you could perfectly well fit into, but sadly I just gave it to somebody else."

"I can't teach in a school, Albus! Are you serious? What about the thread to the kids? What about the periods I would not be able to attend to classes?"

Dumbledore smiled and the gesture irritated Remus. Faith might be one thing, but this idea was downright foolish.

"I remember a little boy saying more or less the same things to me, not that long ago. There was hope in that boy, and it was so beautiful to see it. I do wish I could see something like this again in the man that boy had become."

Remus opened his mouth to answer but the old wizard cut across.

"The position had been taken, so there is no point on talking about this any further. I would suggest though for you to consider it, for a not so distant future, perhaps? Good evening, Remus."

* * *

**AN: I want to thank Naina15, who has generously offered to beta the already published 'Tonks' Tale'. Thank you very very much!**

**Happy Holidays to you all!**


	36. So many warnings

_October 5th 1992_

Had he not read so many warnings, Remus would have thought it almost impossible that such a delicate small flower could be so dangerous. Still, if he was to remember his Potion lessons back at school, one of the things Slughorn had told them over and over was that the external appearance of any given substance could be terribly deceptive. This purple flower, _aconite,_ seemed to be a living example to that.

Remus twirled the delicate stem between his fingers, almost shining at the morning light. He was just buying his time again. But he had already made his decision: he would try to brew that terribly difficult potion this time. And he had to do it now if he was to drink it seven days in a row before the next full moon, according to the instructions he know knew by heart.

"Wolfsbane Potion," he whispered, reading the heading of the piece of parchment that was now pasted on the wall of his apartment.

_Is it possible that this could change everything?_

There was only one way to know it.

Slowly, he placed his old cauldron on the table and lit a fire with his wand.

_Harry had certainly grown up a lot in the last few years. That was to be expected. There was something else though, and Remus was pleased to see for himself that Dumbledore had been accurate when describing James' son behaviour. _

_He could not help but feel a tad proud on seeing him actually teasing his cousin a bit, threatening him with a Magic both Remus and Harry knew he was not allowed to use outside school. Apparently Harry had forgotten to tell his cousin that. _

How odd that he thought precisely about that before drinking the steaming bluish liquid he had just scooped from his cauldron. He remembered Harry, and James, and how his time at Hogwarts could have been so much easier, had a potion like this one existed.

He toasted to his memories and drained the cup in one large gulp.

A moment later, he realised something had gone terribly wrong.

It felt like being stabbed by thousands knives from his insides. His legs were trembling and he collapsed on the wooden floor of his apartment. He had to do something; he had to reach for his wand and…

In front of his eyes, everything went black. He felt a heavy weight on his brain, he could not do anything, he could not move, but he had to.

Trying to get off the floor with all his might, he probed on the surface of the table, without being able to see a thing. The loud clang and a heavy blow on his right shoulder told him that the cauldron and its remaining content had fallen on him. The liquid on his skin was burning, but he had to ignore it. He needed to do something, he needed to call somebody.

Finally his numb fingers touched the wand. Concentrating as hard as possible, he thought about past happier times and directed the greyish mist, hoping that it would reach its destination, before losing all conscience.

* * *

He could feel somebody moving his body and fidgeting with his robes. Warmness and coldness all around him suggested that this somebody was casting spells on him. Remus could not move, though, or open his eyes. He tried to say something, to check if the person as his side was indeed Mad-Eye Moody, but he could not make a sound.

Another spell washed on him, and this time, he could not think about anything else.

It felt like a blink later when he finally could open his eyes. Through the window, he could see the dark blue sky; he must have been unconscious for a very long time, despite his own blurred impressions.

He groaned loudly, but relieved that he could do so at least.

"About time," the harsh voice sounded nearby and the distinctive clunk of the Auror's wooden claw made Remus sigh in relieve.

"Wha-?"

"What on the name of Merlin were you thinking, lad?"

Remus tried to move her arms to press a soothing palm on his forehead. He could not.

"Don't even try it. It's best if you don't move."

"What happened?" Remus felt his throat dry and his voice weak.

"You tell me. It was darn difficult to figure out what on earth was on that cauldron, toppled over on the floor. I almost had half of the entire Auror office summoned over to reverse the mess and figure out the antidote!"

It was difficult for Remus to follow what Moody was saying.

"You didn't-?"

"Of course I didn't. I'm capable enough, right? And I suspect you wouldn't want the publicity, am I right?"

Remus shook his head slowly. The small movement seemed to be too much for his tired muscles.

"I swear I would have killed you haven't you been already half-dead," Moody grunted.

"Half dead?"

"A right mess. The only person I've seen that wounded before is me! All raw and bleeding and… what on earth were you trying to do? How did you think you could brew Wolfsbane on your own? Haven't you read that it's one real nasty piece of potion? That it's darn difficult and almost a complete poison if you don't brew it right?"

"I kno-"

"It's almost a miracle you could do a Patronus in that condition and you should thank your stars I wasn't on duty, lad."

Remus sighed. When had been the last time he had felt he had to thank his stars for anything? He could not remember.

"I want to know a couple of things now. Why were you trying to do this on your own? Isn't your mother a Healer? She could have brewed this in no time, I'm sure. And even if she wouldn't have got it right the first time, she could have healed you much better and quicker than me!"

"I couldn't tell her. I… there's no need to raise her hopes."

Moody grunted, but looked a tad mollified.

"Besides," Remus added. "The ingredients are expensive, she can't afford them every month, and neither can I."

He could feel his strength coming back. Despite of what Moody had said, it was obvious that he had managed to cure him all right.

Making an effort, he heaved himself to a sitting position. Moody did not say a thing but took a sit on one of his chairs, right in front of him.

"And what would have happened if you had gotten it right?" he asked. "Still you wouldn't have been able to buy it ever month now, would you?"

Remus shrugged.

"Maybe I could have found a job. If this thing works, I would need only one day off to transform, not two or three to recover."

"Codswallop! Who told you that? Transformation using Wolfsbane is still as painful for your body, don't kid yourself."

Remus just shrugged.

"When did you come back, by the way?" Moody asked.

"A while ago."

Nobody said a thing for a moment. Remus felt he needed to apologise for not letting Moody know he was back, but he could not find the words.

"Dumbledore told me something the other day," he said instead.

"I bet he did."

"He said you've faith in me."

Moody reached to an inside pocket of his travelling cloak and produced a hipflask. He took a large swig and Remus wondered if he would say anything.

"Dumbledore uses funny words to describe things," the Auror finally said.

He pointed his wand to the table where not long ago the cauldron had been bubbling. Remus saw now a mess of shattered glasses and blood, and a lonely cup in the middle. Moody summoned the cup and gave it to him.

"Drink that."

He obeyed. It did not tasted good, but it soothed his raw insides almost instantly.

"I wouldn't say faith," Moody spoke again, slowly. "You are the first werewolf I met. Of course, you don't know that," he added hastily. "It was odd because I wasn't that young and still, I never had the opportunity to meet one of you. And there you were, a child, all skinny and looking at the world with big scared eyes."

Remus felt a little uncomfortable with the description, but he was more curious so he did not say a thing.

"One of the occupational hazards of being an Auror is that it toughens you up, it makes you stop feeling things eventually. All those rotten things we've to see day after day, they eventually cost us a toll. And yet there are those moments in which something touches us and it feels like suddenly being awake after a long sleep. You get to feel again, sorrow, indignation, anger, pity, the very reasons you took the job in the first place. You were one of those times for me."

Remus shifted in his seat, he did not know what to say.

"Eventually I'd forgotten you. You were just one casualty of a very long war going on, another victim. And then we met again, in Diagon Alley."

"I remember," Remus said.

"Yeah well… you had little to do with what happened later. It was your mother actually."

Remus frowned.

"My mother?"

"Yeah." Moody chuckled. "I am pretty sure that that night, when you were attacked, your mother would have killed me if she had had the chance. She was angry, Merlin she was. And the one responsible for that was out of her reach so she turned against me instead! It wasn't the first nor the last time something like that happened to me. And yet… well, that other time in Diagon Alley, I could see she still held me somehow responsible for what had happened to you back then. She made me think, you see? That's why I suggested Dumbledore to take you in. He agreed, of course. Too easily, if you ask me. You know the rest of the story," he finished.

Remus tried to stand up but his legs did not seem to hold his body. He gave up and rested his head on the back of the sofa.

"Do you think there is a chance for me, Mad-Eye?"

The Auror took another swing from his flask.

"A chance for what exactly? For potion making you're hopeless."

Remus chuckled dryly and rose his head again.

"Not for that, no. For… I don't know… do something. Find a place, I guess."

"What sort of place are you expecting to find?"

Remus shrugged.

"What is it that you like to do?"

"I'm good at fighting."

"I know you are," Moody grunted. "I though you some of your moves, haven't I? That's not what I asked. I asked what do you like."

"I guess… studying… reading… that's what I missed the most while living with packs."

"Then do it."

"And how am I supposed to get to the end of the month?"

Moody snorted.

"Narrow-mindedness exasperates me, you know."

Remus grunted.

"Still, it's getting more difficult every day to find a job…"

"Nobody said you have to work for wizards. Nobody said you have to love your work. Nobody said you have to lead a perfect life. Because you won't do any of those, and it'll be better for you to stop pretending or wishing you will." Moody stood up. "You're not James, with his perfect wife and his perfect son… look where it all ended! You're not Sirius, either, and I'm not going to talk about that sort of scum! And you're not Peter. You're not going to have the tragic hero's death, you hear me? You're made for other sort of things."

Remus had tried to interrupt him several times but Moody did not seem to want to catch a breath.

"So now stop experimenting with potions that are way out of your league and above it all, stop wishing for the past to come back. I'd thought that after a decade you'd be over it, but now I see you're not. That's what I'll tell you: get over it already! And forgive yourself for surviving! Good evening!"

And without another word, he was out of Remus' flat.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot to everybody who fav'ed this tale or put in on their alerts! And very special thanks to the oh-so-very-kind reviewers login password, Masks and Teapots, QueenCobraWing, TearsOfaSingingPhoenix, tt crews (you made me think a lot about Moody), ludmilla, Louey06, AnnaMariaNordlade, Snarky64, Dimcairien, Star Ash Myst (welcome back!), strukkfirst, PureAwesomeness13, , Mischiefer, NeverBeenDarkMarked, pepe200, catwalkingowl, Tonks23 and Naina15 (thanks for the wonderful beta job, over at Tonks'!)**

**A very happy 2012 to all of you!**


	37. Diagon Alley was not very busy

_August 1993_.

Diagon Alley was not very busy and Remus suspected the pressing heat had something to do with that. The few shoppers, it seemed, where looking for refuge in the Ice Cream Parlour nearby or inside the Leaky Cauldron. He wondered vaguely if he should join them, but his mind was occupied with other matters.

It had been almost a year since he had last seen Dumbledore. Of course, they have communicated largely during that period, but there never had been real need to actually meet. On that occasion at Hogwarts the Headmaster had mention that he should think about teaching; Remus had dismissed the idea easily. It sounded almost absurd, insignificant even, compared with all the new information he now had, and the tasks lying ahead of them.

If he was to be honest, though, he would have to admit that he did not forget it. Throughout all year, his treacherous imagination had leaded him down that path from time to time and he was surprised on how attractive the thought of being a teacher had become. Indeed he had often forced himself to stop thinking any further into lessons he would never give.

And then, Dumbledore had asked him to meet again, and not unlike the last time, he had walked the empty corridors of Hogwarts castle.

This time the old wizard proposal of teaching did not give him much time to think or fear, or even dwell on the many reasons he had not to take the post. Times had become darker now and it was not only about teaching an interesting lesson to kids any more.

"_I must confess, Remus, I am worried. I don't like any of the ways I can imagine Sirius Black might have used to escape Azkaban. The fact is that he has, and unless Cornelius is very much mistaken, he will try to go after Harry Potter. I am not willing to risk that possibility and I am quite sure you would agree with me."_

_Remus nodded. _

_The notice of Sirius' escape had left him in a sort of numbness. His first thought had been going after him, chasing him all over the country, looking not only for a runaway wizard, but for that he only knew about: a large black dog. He could not. The fact that he had not told anybody about his old school friend being an Animagus hit him and it was as if he had become unable to move ever since that realisation._

_Why hadn't he told the authorities? The Aurors? Moody? _

_He opened his mouth, not sure if he ought to tell Dumbledore now, but the old wizard spoke again._

"_Although I am sure you will be an excellent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, above it all I am trusting in you to help me keep that boy and everybody inside the castle safe. We need as many eyes and hands possible and yours are especially valuable."_

He had agreed of course, without a word and yet, full of insecurities.

And now he was trying to focus on the actual job, trying to remember all his silly fantasies about lessons and homework. Still it was almost impossible for him to just decide what books on defensive spells to buy from Fluorish and Blott's. Not when Sirius' presence was so tangible, both in his mind and in real life. He looked out the shop's window although he knew what he was going to see.

Sirius' face was looking at him from many signs. It was not the face he remembered from their childhood or their youth, but that other that had haunted him in nightmares for the last decade. The mad, desperate expression he had seen on his former friend that time he had gone to Azkaban.

A purple-haired witch was putting up more signs, one next to the other, with dull, mechanical waves of her wand. In no time she would succeed on covering every wall of every shop.

He wished he could vanish them all, along with the witch. Of course, his common sense was saying, those signs were useful. People had to be alert and ready to recognise the face. And yet, he did not need to be reminded, over and over again, what had coasted him so much to try to forget.

He needed to focus on something else. With an effort, he took his eyes off the signs and the witch pasting them and concentrated on the spine of the book he had been holding. Lessons, and subjects he liked, and researches he had made, those were safe enough paths for his mind to wander.

And there was this other thing coming that was keeping both his mind busy and his hopes slightly raised.

"_Before you part, Remus, I would like you to see somebody. And old acquaintance of yours."_

_Dumbledore stood up and walked to the door. Without another word he opened it, to let somebody in._

"_Remus, I am sure you remember Severus."_

_He stood up in a jump and it took him all his will not to point at the newcomer with his wand. Of course he remembered Severus Snape. To the piles memories, both grim and funny, from his time in school, there were others to add, much more sinister and recent. Severus Snape had been a well known Death Eater. Actually, the last time he had seen him, they had been firing jinxes at each other and Remus had gotten the worse part._

"_Good evening." Snape said shortly, his expression blank._

_Remus only nodded, trying to pose a silent question to the headmaster. He was not looking him but at the newcomer._

"_Severus had agreed to brew Wolfsbane potion for you, Remus, while you teach here," he said instead._

"_To brew…?"_

"_He is the Potions Master, so you two will be working in close proximity for a while."_

_Despite of his composed posture, Remus could swear Snape was not remotely happy with this arrangement. Truth to be told, it might have been difficult to say who was actually more displeased with it. _

"_Certainly we are not only ensuring your well-being, Remus," at this point, Snape made a tiny grimace and Remus tried his best not to flinch, "but the student's and staff's. This solution will rend unnecessary for you to go down the Whomping Willow before every full moon."_

"_I see," was the only thing Remus could manage._

_For a long moment, it seemed that Dumbledore was waiting for them to do something. None of them moved._

"_I thank you very much, Severus, for coming over here during your holidays. And I have already told you how much I appreciate your help on this matter, as, I am sure, Remus does."_

"_I will make the potion on due time, Headmaster," Snape said curtly. "Now, if you don't need me any further, I shall go."_

"_Of course, Severus, good evening."_

_Remus only nodded, still too flabbergasted to say a word._

The following conversation had been one of the most bizarre one he had ever had with Albus Dumbledore. Had he not known better, Remus would have been convinced the old wizard had been Imperiused. It did not make any sense, not at all.

He had asked, of course, how was it possible that a former Death Eater was now teaching at Hogwarts and Dumbledore had answered that he had every reason to put his faith on him, and that many things had changed while Remus had been abroad. That much was plain to him.

"_But is it wise, Albus, to trust him? After all he is a Death Eater! How do you-?"_

"_I am quite familiar with what he _was_, Remus, thank you." Dumbledore's tone was cold and had a conclusive ringing on it. "I don't have to explain to anybody my motivations, but I trust Severus completely and I do wish for you to do the same. Of course," he added in a kinder voice, "if you cannot find in your heart a way to trust him, we would have to look for another way for you to be safe during full moons. I do expect, though, that this would not be necessary."_

Those bright blue eyes had been telling Remus he would do good to just agree. Now, though, the memories of his own failed attempt on brewing the potion were fighting against the wild expectation of actually having the possibility of using it and being partially freed of his monthly burden.

Wolfsbane was an easy potion to temper with. Any grudges that Severus Snape might still hold against him could be solved with just adding an extra tad of this or that to any dose of it. He, Remus, would not be that naïve thought.

"_I just want to know, Mad-Eye, why does Dumbledore suddenly trust Snape?"_

_Moody grunted and for a moment he did not say a thing._

"_Sometimes I think he's a fool," he finally spoke. "But this time, he's assured me he's got very good reasons."_

"_Why isn't he sharing those reasons, though?"_

"_I don't know, lad," Mad-Eye tossed away his hair from his fringe. He looked concerned. "I have what you asked for," he added, producing a little dark bottle from the insides of his cloak. "You should keep this on hand when you drink that potion. Constant vigilance! If you feel something funny you drink that stuff and summon Poppy Pomfrey at once. It's not a cure, mind you, but it'll give you some time in case Snape doesn't give you the right potion."_

_Remus just nodded, carefully putting the small bottle in his pocket._

"_I don't reckon he'll try to do something to you, though." Moody spoke again, thoughtfully. "Whatever it is he's playing at, and I'm sure he is planning something, I don't think he'll risk Dumbledore's trust just to poison you."_

The old Auror was right, Remus had to admit it. And now, to the task of teaching and the extra task of keeping an eye on possible appearances of Sirius, he had to be on guard for his own sake. And maybe, being this close by, he could even get a glimpse of what Severus Snape was truly after by earning Dumbledore's trust and placing himself inside the castle.

And yet, he could not kid himself. All of that, the perspective of taking Wolfsbane potion every full moon, the fact that he would teach James' son, the looking into Snape's real motivations, all of those seem to be excuses and they would not make him forget, no matter how hard he tried, what truly filled his mind with a worry so deep it was bordering panic.

Sirius Black had managed to escape Azkaban.

The friend he once thought he had, the person who had murdered James, Lily and Peter, and with them all what he had held important in life, could be anywhere now.

And there was this other detail nobody but him knew. That it was much easier for Sirius to hide than for anybody else.

Had it been that way he had escaped Azkaban? Transformed in that big black dog Remus knew so well? Had that wonderful gesture of a trio of friends, so long ago, given a Death Eater the resource he needed to become even more powerful?

Remus had to shake his head at this thought. Paying for his purchase, he exited Fluorish and Blott's in a hurry. The purple haired witch had succeeded on filling every empty wall of Diagon Alley with Sirius Black's image and was nowhere to be seen. Again, Remus wished he could vanish the lot.

It could not be. That they had turned into unregistered Animagi for him, Remus' sake, could not have turned into an asset for Sirius to perform any more dark magic. He could not even think about it in those terms, the fact that one of the most grandiose events of his youth had been turned into a weapon by one of the most dangerous Death Eaters of all times was unbearable.

It could not be it.

Sirius had probably used any trick learned from his master to escape Azkaban and now, he was surely using dark magic to remain hidden. There was no point in torturing himself with the thought of him being the cause Sirius was on the loose again, and posing a threat to Harry.

Still, he would do whatever was on his power to keep that boy safe. And if on the process he would meet Sirius Black again, he was sure his wand would not just cast a _Silencio_ this time.


	38. He had wished for the full moon to move

**I don't own anything you recognise here. Harry Potter and what surrounds him are property of J. K. Rowling (Alas!)**

* * *

_September 1st 1993_

There had been not that many times in which he had wished for the full moon to move one a couple of days up or down the calendar. This was definitely one of those times. After a very long time of not doing so, and even though he knew she was weak and maybe not at all up for the task, he had asked her mother for some help.

So last night during the full moon he had transformed in the small hut in the garden his mother's house, instead of Apparating far away to lonely woods, and he had asked her to do whatever she could to patch him the morning after.

He would have wanted to Apparate in Hogsmeade and make his way on foot to the castle and to the peace and quiet of his new office before the kids would start to come in, but it was out of the question. Remus had learned long time ago that it would be better for him not to try to Apparate on the day after the full moon.

It was indeed rotten luck that the first moon of his first term as a teacher at Hogwarts should be precisely the night before the start of term. And yet, while getting on the first train that would take him from his mother's small town to King's Cross in London he thought it could be much worse. His fist full moon could have been in the middle of the first week and that one would have been much harder to explain.

He arrived way too early, the Hogwarts Express would not part until eleven o'clock and it was just nine. Walking around the station Remus tried to use his spare time having breakfast and getting extra doses of chocolate for the trip. He was too tired, though, and wondered if the barrier between platforms nine and ten would let him pass even thought it was not yet the time. It was worth a try; even though he had sent most of his things in advance, he was still carrying a briefcase he all but wished to drop somewhere. His tired muscles were aching and a brand new wound right across his torso was stinging against the fabric of his shirt.

Trying to be as casual as possible, he leaned softly against the barrier. He could feel his body passing through and, with an extra step, he was on Platform nine and three-quarters.

More than fifteen years had passed since the last time he had been there and it all looked more or less the same. The platform was empty, except for an old wizard pointing his wand at the floor in a continuous yet apparently pointless attempt to _scourgify_ it. The Hogwarts Express stood there, silent and motionless; this would be his best chance. He walked down the platform right to the very end of the train and opened the door. The corridors were, of course, empty, and unusually clean. Remus made his way to the very last compartment and heaved his suitcase to the luggage rack, taking the sit next to the window. It was more than probable that students would eventually try to occupy this compartment but, being the very last one, at least he would have a couple of hours of peace.

He did not fall asleep right away though. Memories were flooding in, of himself and his friends occupying compartments not unlike this one, on their way to school or back home on the end of term, many times. Now he knew better than to try to suppress those memories. Remus had come to the conclusion they would be unavoidable throughout the year; it would be much better for him to allow them to flow and even, if possible, enjoy some of them.

After all, there was no doubt school had been the best time of his life.

* * *

The sound of voices made Remus wake up, but he did not open his eyes. The train was moving, but he could not tell for how long they had been travelling.

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," a boy's voice was saying. Remus did not need to hear any further to realise who they were talking about. Sirius Black was almost the only topic the wizard population discussed these days. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."*

He fell asleep again, ignoring the rest of the discussion. He did not need some kid's point of view on the matter.

In what seemed like a heartbeat later, he was awake again. Stiff and sore, he stirred without opening his eyes. Something had caught his attention but he could not tell what it was. The kids were still talking about their summer holidays; he was more aware now, and he could distinguish three voices now: a girl and two boys.

Suddenly he realised what had made him pay closer attention. One of the boys was named Harry. Of course this could be a coincidence, how many Harrys could there be at Hogwarts? And yet, was there something in his voice that sounded just like James' or was it his imagination? After all, what were the odds of him actually sharing a compartment with his old mate's son?

Remus was about to open his eyes and find out when the train suddenly started to slow down.

"We can't be there yet,"* the girl said.

Now Remus could hear the rain, drumming against the window. He opened his eyes this time, the girl was right; they were not there yet, although, looking out the darkness outside the window, they must be near. With a jolt, the train came to a complete stop and a moment later the lights were off. All around he could hear kids calling one another, wondering what was going on. Remus was suddenly on edge, this was not normal and the explanation that occurred to him was not a bit reassuring.

Dumbledore had mentioned that Dementors would be stationed around the castle to guarantee Sirius could not get in. Was it possible that they had stopped the train to check on the inside? He had to admit this must be the explanation. The voices and calls of other two kids entering the compartment were making it almost impossible to make out what was going on.

"Quiet!"* he said, sounding much harsher than intended.

None of them spoke again. Remus drew his wand and pointed it at the door, hoping to be mistaken. He could not see how would he manage to produce a Patronus, should it be needed, being as weak as he was. Still, he needed to be prepared.

He waved his free hand to produce some flames; inside the compartment, five kids were looking at him, their eyes wide open. The kid they had called Harry had been James' son all right, and he resembled his father even more than the last time Remus had seen him. There was no time to properly look at him though.

"Stay where you are,"* he said trying to sound calm. He was walking out to check the corridor, but before he reached it, the door slid open.

It was a Dementor, looking larger than usual due to the small space of the train compartment. Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus could see the kids going pale and starting to tremble. The cold was starting to get into his bones and all around him everything seemed to be cover in despair.

_The Werewolf smelt around, looking for that longed pray of his. Hoping this time he would be satisfied._

He needed to get rid of the creature.

"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."* He knew the Dementor would not obey, but he had to try.

Funnily enough, inside this very familiar place, happy memories from his past seem to be somewhat easier to recall. He had to hurry now; he had had more than one unpleasant experience with Dementors before and had learned how to manage both the fear and despair, and the coldness all over. The kids must be anew to this predicament. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Harry had fallen from his seat and seemed to be having a fit on the floor.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" he whispered, the image of James quite easy to recall, and the silver wolfish creature emerged from the tip of his wand and forced the Dementor to go back.

"What's that?"

"What's happening to Harry?"

"Harry, can you hear me?"

The girl and the read-headed boy had kneeled over the boy. He had stop trembling, but seemed to be unconscious. The other two seemed torn apart between worry and their own terrors.

The lights went on and the train started to move again. Remus was about to point his wand at the lying boy and wake him up, but the girl seemed to be doing a fair job on her own.

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"* she gave him soft slaps and Harry finally stirred and opened his eyes. His forehead was covered in sweat and he looked extremely palled.

Fortunately, he had exactly what was needed for this situation. Leaving the explanation to the other kids, he searched in his pockets and produced one of his chocolate bars. It would be enough for everybody in the compartment and he would still have some more for himself.

"Here," he gave Harry a large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."*

Suddenly it felt as the echo of something else, something belonging to another time and another place, where he, Remus, was being woken up by a concerned Alice Longbottom after the very first time he had had to face a Dementor. And exactly as he had just done with Harry, Frank Longbottom had pushed a bar of chocolate into his hand and had assured him roughly it would help him.

Unconsciously he looked up at the round-faced boy; he had entered the compartment with a girl while the lights had gone out and was now looking at Harry, concerned. Even though his face was a little green, he recognised him right away. He looked just like his mother Alice.

"What was that thing?"* Harry asked, taking his out of his reveries; he was not eating the chocolate. Remus wondered for a moment if he was just too curious to do so, or if he did not really trust him. Both explanations made him think about James.

"A Dementor," he answered, handing pieces of chocolate to the rest of the occupants of the compartment. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."*

* * *

He had already given a handful of lessons and never, not in his wildest fantasies, would he have guessed he would enjoy doing it so much. Being back in the castle, in this new position of his, was giving him an amount of energy he did not remember having for a very long time. Without really noticing how, the ghosts of his past in these corridors were being replaced by happy memories and very real, solid students.

At first, he had gotten many curious looks. He was not going to pretend the students had not noticed his old, worn off clothes or his shabby look. He was prepared for that to cause a less than good impression. Still, the few people that actually applauded with enthusiasm when Dumbledore had introduced him on his first night – Harry and the kids who had been with him in the train – had left a very warm memory and later on, he had been looking forward to have them in his class, he wanted to talk to them, to get to know them better.

It had been a good class indeed, although he felt guilty of thinking about it on those not very modest terms. And yet he could not help but feel he was doing a fine job; his students have had fun, and he had as well.

He had almost not recognised Neville Longbottom when he had looked at him on the train compartment but later on, he had seen him walking down the halls again and it had finally struck him. Of course, he had been prepared to see James' son, but he had somehow forgotten all about Frank and Alice's. There was little of Frank in this boy's expression, but a lot of Alice. The resemblance with the Auror's round happy face was remarkable.

Remus had seen this boy before, of course, as a baby, crawling around his parent's living room and then that last time, being carried by Frank's old mother inside a ward in St. Mungo's.

Now, seeing him as a boy, going red and stuttering in front of Snape was painful; there was not a trace of his parent's legendary courage or her grandmother's nerve, and yet, he must had it somewhere inside.

He had not planned for what had happened next, on that memorable first lesson with Gryffindor's third years, and yet he had savoured for a wild moment seeing Frank and Alice's son pushing up the sleeves of his robe and looking at the boggart with determination. With the very same determination Alice's had whenever trying to press a point.

_And, there is no point to deny it now, _he thought, quietly laughing inside the privacy of his office, _what a great, marvellous sight it was looking at Snivellus wearing Augusta Longbottom's dress and hat._

* * *

***Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

**AN: I can't thank you enough for such wonderful support. Thanks a heap for reading and reviewing, you people make my day!**

**Cheers!**


	39. The news about Snape's impersonation

_Late __September 1993_

The news about Snape's impersonation of Neville Longbottom's grandmothers had travelled as fast as only school gossip could manage. Remus was trying very hard to suppress that memory every time he crossed Snape in the staff room or in the halls. He had not said a thing, nor had Snape and he was thinking it was for the best.

Despite of his enjoying of the lessons, Remus had to admit he was not at ease. The full moon was approaching and he was due to his first dose of Wolfsbane potion. He was pretty sure it had not been the wisest of moves to annoy the very person holding his life in his hands. Of course, he repeated himself over and over, Snape would not try to do him any harm while being watched by Dumbledore. And yet Remus knew that many things could go wrong.

Not only Snape could brew the potion badly, making it poisonous to drink. He could not make it at all, and give Remus with something that would have no effect whatsoever when the full moon came. What if they would all trust him to be harmful and quiet and instead he became the monster he was used to be once a month, while being inside the castle.

Of course he would barricade his door. He would put every protective spell he knew in every possible way of entrance but still… What if something went wrong? What is his hunger as a werewolf became so great he just crossed every protective spell around his room?

And then there was the issue of the potion giving itself. Should he go down to Snape's office and ask for his dose? Should he wait for him to deliver it to his office? He did not know which of them would be worse or more awkward and the time was still passing. He would have to do something, to ask where his office was, although he very much suspected should be somewhere in the dungeons, and just ask him for the thing.

A soft knock on his own door took him out of his musings.

"Come on in, please."

Snape entered, carrying a steaming goblet; his expression was unreadable. Without a word, he placed it on top of Remus' desk.

"Thank you very much, Sn… Severus."

For a moment it seemed he would go without another word; he had his hand on the door handle, but then he turned on his heels and faced Remus again.

"I expect you know you should drink it right away, while it's still fresh."

"I do, thank you," it was difficult to maintain an air of polite indifference, while eying the steaming liquid trying to see something fishy on it.

"Of course, I can perfectly imagine how you were incapable to brew it yourself."

Remus did not know what to answer. After all these years, was Snape really taunting him and enjoying it?

"You're right," he said pleasantly, "I can't. I had a nasty accident while attempting it short time ago."

A muscle near Snape's lips twitched; it seemed for a moment that he had all but wanted to smirk. He did not.

"Aconite is indeed a poison," he just said.

They looked at each other for a moment and Snape turned to the door. For a second time, though, he did not exit Remus' office, but turned around slowly and faced him again.

"You need to drink it," he said, looking right to the goblet.

Remus doubted for a fraction of a second and then took it, trying to surreptitiously feel any trace of poison from the soft smell of it. Of course he would not, it was pointless. An accomplished potion maker such as Snape would have done his best to erase any fishy sign or smell, had he intended to poison somebody.

Slowly, Remus took a sip. It was so disgusting he gagged, and for a moment he thought he would be sick. This time Snape was indeed smirking. Taking a deep breath, Remus swallowed the contents of the goblet in one and placed it on the table with an unintentional very loud clunk.

"Funny how trust works," Snape said slowly, taking the empty goblet and moving it slowly in his fingers.

Remus almost did not listen; he was paying close attention to his insides, trying to make out any funny feeling, any sign that something had gone wrong. Automatically his right hand was inside his pocket, touching the cold glass of Moody's antidote, ready to take it out if necessary.

"Trust?" he asked, realising Snape had been waiting for him to say something.

"You think I am still a Death Eater waiting to attack all of you and I think you are still friends with Sirius Black and you are helping him. That is to say, you don't trust me, and I certainly don't trust you. When we last saw each other, years ago, we were both duelling and, if I recall correctly, you must have a long scar on your left forearm that has nothing to do with your monthly transformations…"

It was hard to see where Snape was heading with all this, while trying to figure out if something was wrong with himself.

"Sectumsempra," he managed to say, recalling the battle.

"Exactly," Snape said simply. "And yet here we are. Me, wondering if you are indeed helping Sirius Black to get inside the castle, and you wondering if that potion you just drunk is going to kill you."

Remus did not know what to say. Both stared at each other for what seemed like a very long moment.

"I won't kill you, Lupin," Snape finally said.

"I am not helping Sirius Black," Remus replied.

"And none of us believes any of that. Good day."

And this time he went out, leaving Remus torn between his own fears and his thoughts of what Snape had really wanted to say.

* * *

_October 1st 1993._

There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do.

Remus had hid all the valuable things inside his room wardrobe or his trunk and had casted a number of shield charms and protective spells around both. His mattress and linings had been shrunk to fit a drawer and the wood of the bed had been protected as well. He racked his brains trying to picture both the wooden cabin at his parents' house and the Shrieking Shack, remembering everything he had damaged while being transformed. Fortunately, his room at Hogwarts had stone walls; those would be almost impossible to scratch.

Even if he had drunk Wolfsbane potion every day for the past week he was not expecting t to work, not really. Snape had not poisoned him and that, according to Remus, was good enough. His head, though, refused to consider the idea of actually having an easy transformation. He had even considered going down to the Shrieking Shack and transform there, as an extra measure; it was only because Dumbledore had talked him out that idea that he was now pacing his room for the hundredth time that evening.

He checked the walls, roof and floor again and casted an extra charm to prevent any noises to be heard outside. It was starting to get cold and there was a handsome fire in the fireplace. For a moment he thought about extinguish it but he could not see the perils of it; he knew werewolves usually avoided fire, maybe having it would keep him a bit quiet. And even if he charged against it, a few burns would not be that bad.

He looked outside the window. From this side of the castle, he could not see the sun setting, but the crimson clouds in the sky were telling him it was almost time.

There was one thing to do and he had to be really focuses in order to accomplish it. Remus extended his palm, his wand resting on it, and closed his eyes. Wandless levitation was not easy, but he had tried this particular piece of magic many times before. The difficulty was usually when he needed to retrieve it. Focusing on the stone ledge he had previously seen close to the ceiling of his room, he levitated his wand and gently put it there. It was high enough. Even jumping, his werewolf self would not be able to get to it.

He took off his clothes and took a sit near the fire.

He only needed to wait now.

A moment later he started to feel it. Although he had lost the count of how many times had he transformed, it always took him by surprise whenever the process started.

Remus heard the snapping of his bones even before realising his legs' shape was changing. Beyond the sound of his own flesh and skin changing shape, he could also hear a great number of things now, even the distant voices of the kids in the castle, and he could smell every separate log burning in the fireplace. Breathing hard, whimpering and grunting, he bet over when his spine started to change its shape, the cold stone floor against his hardened paws, and after another snap inside him he was fully transformed.

He opened his eyes to see the colourless world around him, recognising his surroundings, his head cocked to one side and all his instincts at the read.

Except, this time he knew where he was. He knew _who_ he was.

It was just like suddenly being colour-blind… and shorter, and with some weird senses of smell and hearing.

He walked around the room, sniffing the surfaces and the corners, recognising again a space that, after a month, he had come to call his. It was a very odd feeling, almost as if this was his first transformation. For a moment, he marvelled when he realised how far he could smell. There was something inside his wardrobe he needed to wash, and he had even forgotten a piece of chocolate in there, probably inside a pocket.

Outside his room, one or two floors above, a group of students were walking down a hall; he could even hear a distance Quidditch practice outside the window, and the soft steps of Mrs. Norris patrolling a corridor.

And then it struck him. He was not hungry, nor angry. There was no lust, no desperate need to attack, to be fed, to hurt.

On top of these new sharpened senses, he had memories, and a conscience. He could recall what he had thought in that day's lesson, what he and Minerva MacGonagall had talked in the morning, and the passages of the book he had been reading… all of that and yet, nothing else.

He was just him. Remus Lupin.

The transformation had left him very tired, and without the emotion or the wild hunger to order his body to search for pray and hurt everything around, he felt he had no need to even move.

Walking around a spot on the fire once or twice, he curled up and put his snout over his front paws. All he needed to do now was to wait for the full moon to pass.

Soft knocks on his door woke him up many hours later. Soft golden light was entering through his window. His body was very sore and cold, apparently he had broken a couple of ribs while transforming back. The person outside his room knocked again.

Ignoring the pain, he stood up with a jump. Who might this be?

"Yes?" he asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"Poppy Pomfrey."

He could not help but smile.

"A moment, please,"

Closing his eyes in concentration, he summoned his wand. It took him three attempts to finally make it soar down to his outstretched palm.

His clothes were on the mantelpiece, intact, just the way he had left them the night before. He put them on quickly and undid all the spells on his door, fearing Madam Pomfrey could have gone in all that time.

She was still there, carrying several bottles full of potions. Without a word she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

"What are you doing wandering around?" she asked a bit harshly. "You could have opened the door from your bed!"

Remus was torn between amusement and relief.

"Sorry I…"

"Go back to bed; you've not grown up a bit since you left school, have you?"

He obeyed, trying to suppress a grimace of pain.

"Let me see," Madam Pomfrey was pointing her wand at him. "I'd almost forgotten how delicate your ribs are, you were always breaking them. But then… yes, not many scratches, just the usual ones you get when you transform…"

"I don't want to be rude, Poppy," he started, trying to shake off the impression he was twelve again, "but what are you doing here?"

"We can't take you to the Hospital wing, can we?" she said, pouring a purple liquid in an empty goblet. "Drink it all, you know how this works."

"But I can take care of myself! I've done this many times on my own."

"Don't make me think about it. Drink the potion."

Again, Remus did what he was being told. He wondered if he was doing it only because he was so used to following the school matron's orders.

"Now you're here and I can give you a hand from time to time," she said, pointing her wand at his ribs. The relief was instant. "So, how was the potion then?"

Remus moved his hands and legs to see if there was anything else broken before answering. He did not yet know how to put his last night in words. He had slept almost through all of it but at the beginning there had been all this… normality, and it was the most amazing of feelings.

"I can't describe it, Poppy," he finally said. "There… there is nothing to say."

She arched an eyebrow.

"I just… I transformed all right, but only my body. It was almost like being an Animagus."

Instantly he wanted to bit his tongue. Why on earth had he thought about Animagi precisely then? He did not need to be a genius to know why. The last time he had transformed in school, there had been three Animagi at his side.

Madam Pomfrey did not suspect anything strange though, she was merely smiling.

"It's a shame Wolfsbane's such a complicated, expensive potion. You should get it for free!"

"I'm getting it for free."

"I meant all of you werewolves," she said.

Remus smiled feebly. He was getting very sleepy and he suspected that, other than his own tiredness, the purple liquid he had just drunk had a lot to do with that.

"Get your rest, Remus," Poppy Pomfrey was saying, "I'll come to check on you before diner."

He had wanted to say again that it was not necessary but before he could form the words, he was sound asleep.


	40. Of course he wanted to help Harry

**AN: Good think about writing fanfic, you get to stretch the boundaries of your favourite stories to wherever you imagination takes you. The bad thing about it, is you don't own any of it. A genius called J. R. Rowling does!**

* * *

Of course he wanted to help Harry. And it was not only a matter of choice, was it? It was more like a duty. The reason the kid was having such terrible experiences when in the vicinity of a dementor was closely related to him on the first place. And he knew how to fight them; even though he was not certain he would be able to teach Harry such a complicated spell, he had to try. Indeed it was more than a duty.

And yet, why had he wanted so badly to refuse Harry's bidding?

It was unreasonable of him; selfish even. There was no excuse.

He was torn though, between his curiosity about this boy, his longing to know more about him and see how much of his school friends was still alive in that bespectacled skinny boy, and a need to forget all about it.

For the first time, he had the feeling he was making peace with his past self and was starting building something new, something of his own. He could really do things both useful and satisfying, and start over. And it had taken only a passing mention from Harry to conjure his worst memories from the past and to fill the corridors of the school with ghosts again.

"_When they get near me… I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."*_

He had not been at Godric's Hallow after that night. Unlike Sirius, Hagrid or Dumbledore, that night he had not seen the blown up house, not the lifeless bodies of two of his best friends. He had not heard the cries of the baby; he had not seen Voldemort vanish. Not back then at least.

Sometime later, though, he had asked Dumbledore to show him the memory. If the headmaster had been dubious about what good would it come from it, he had not say a word. Maybe he understood right away what was behind it: Remus had needed to fuel up his will to do something, the right thing. He had forced himself not to run from the facts.

There had not been much to see. Both Hagrid's and Dumbledore's memories combined showed more or less the same. Hagrid had been instructed to just pick Harry and leave the scene. He had met somebody though. Had he been there to check if the job had been properly carried away? Had Hagrid just stopped Sirius Black of killing the Potters' son? They would never know.

Inexplicably, Sirius had given Hagrid his motorbike and had let them get away with Harry. He had not even attempt to confront him. Had he believed he could get away without anybody noticing he had been behind one of the most terrible murders of the war? Maybe he had just suspected his own spells would bounce off the half-giant skin of Hagrid's. Maybe he just wanted to get rid of him quickly so he could search in the rumble and see if James and Lily were really dead. Whatever it had been, the part of Hagrid's memory Remus was interested in finished few moments later. With a last friendly wave to Sirius, he had kicked the motorbike into life and had headed north with little Harry in his arms.

That had been the last time somebody had been kind to Sirius, Remus was sure of that. Had he realised back then there would be one of the last times he would be free to go wherever he pleased? He could not have. Otherwise, he would have fled, it was mere logic.

The second memory had been much more useful and painful at the same time.

With Dumbledore's eyes, he had seen Lily, wounded from the pieces of the house that had fallen on her, but other than that, looking peaceful and calm. She could have been asleep. James' expression, on the other hand, was nothing but calm. He had looked determined. How could he have, when his wand had been found far away from his body?

How much of what had actually happened did Harry remember when facing a Dementor?

His situation was a lot like Remus'. Both were forced to be faced with memories they were not aware they had. In Harry's case, of his early childhood; those were images nobody should remember. He, on the other side, was forced to something he had to life through every month and yet, he did not remember.

It was a question of duty if not something else. He just needed to help Harry put a stop to that.

Even if he was forced to imagine Lily's screams, even if that meant James or Sirius would appear in his dreams again, this was not about him. Maybe it never had really been. Self-pity, in this case, was almost a mockery. He had no right to feel his situation had turned out to be miserable when there was this boy who had lost so much, asking him for help.

So he had finally agreed on meeting him and he had devoted to the task of doing what was needed in order to help Harry.

He had not had much hope for their first lesson. He remembered not only his, but many people's efforts to try to produce a Patronus. How was a thirteen-year-old boy going to succeed?

He was not mistaken. After seeing for the first time that nothing was emerging from Harry's wand, no matter how hard he was struggling with the incantation, Remus realised what was going wrong. He was talented, maybe even more talented that James, but there was this abysmal lack of... confidence? No, it was not exactly right.

He had been lacking the proper experiences that would feed his will. From the complicated part of the Patronus charm, he could not recall that happy memory that would be the essence of the figure he was trying to cast. For a moment, looking at Harry going red and sweaty in the face, he tried to imagine what would have happened if he had been asked to get rid of the boggart as such, using _Riddikulus_. He doubted the boy would find something truly funny among his own experiences.

What a terrible thought that was.

He would have suggested to stop the lesson altogether, but Harry would not even consider it. _Just like James would have_.

"You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on… That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough..."*

_How would he produce such a memory if he did not have one? He must have, otherwise this would be pointless._

This new attempt went far worse. Remus put his arms just in time to prevent Harry from colliding loudly with the floor, while pointing his own wand at the boggart. It turned into a moon almost instantly and he made it levitate back to the box he was using to contain it.

He had to tap Harry in the face several times before he wake up.

"I heard my dad," he said, the moment he opened his eyes. "That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"*

Remus had not been ready for this, even though he could have sworn he had thought it through. Harry was crying, no matter how hard he tried to hide it from him. Remus did not care. Suddenly it all felt terribly present, almost as if he had gone back in time. James, Lily, both alive and happy with their child… and the threat, that imprecise threat not from a dark wizard but from a traitor that knew them, that was pretending to be their friend.

"You heard James?" he spoke without thinking.*

He had, and of course that triggered the next, very logical question.

"You didn't know my dad, did you?"*

Remus hesitated briefly before answering. How bad would it actually be to tell him the truth?

"I — I did, as a matter of fact. We were friends at Hogwarts."*

It was a short, almost dry answer, but he did not feel like elaborating. For a moment he feared Harry would ask him to tell him stories about his father's school days, Remus did now know he was the best person to do that. It was not the most pressing matter though. Above it all, he needed to convince Harry to stop trying something that was clearly beyond his possibilities. And yet, after one more insistent arguing, Remus gave in one more time.

He could not say exactly why, but this time it seemed Harry was going to do it. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, calling for the creature that would protect him, focusing on the black boggart-dementor that was approaching him.

And then, so suddenly it made Remus blink, a silver something, a lot like smoke but much more solid, emerged from Harry's wand, crashing against the dementor. He seemed to have controlled it, but for how long, Remus could not say. From where he was standing he could see Harry trembling slightly, his face covered in sweat.

"_Riddikulus_!"* he yelled, forcing the boggart back into the packing case. The way too familiar white orb was proving somewhat difficult to manage this time, but he did not want to destroy it. The success he had just seen was a clear sign that they would need the boggart-dementor soon enough.

Harry looked elated and tired, but there was also this other emotion in his face. Remus could almost see his brain working connections and he tried to distract himself turning off the lamps of the classroom, bracing for a new question about his parents that would surely bring back new demons from his past.

"Professor Lupin?" the boy finally said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well."*

He knew then. Dumbledore had made it clear that Harry would not know about Sirius' betrayal, and yer, Remus suspected, the boy had managed to find out. Not all of it, probably, but enough.

"What gives you that idea?"* he did not intended to sound harsh, but he had not expected him to mention Sirius. This was a demon he was not ready to discuss with anybody, least of all, Harry. He wondered exactly how much he knew about what had happened.

"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"*

He remembered some time ago, when Hagrid had asked him for old photographs of the Potters. He could not remember which ones did he had, that his mother could have passed the gamekeeper, but he was pretty sure Sirius must have been in several of them.

"Yes, I knew him. Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harry, it's getting late."*

Many hours later he was still recreating the conversation in his head, while pacing the dust-covered wooden floor of the Shrieking Shack. Why had he come here, he was not entirely sure. Maybe because this time he actually needed to face the demons, to face that particular demon called Sirius Black.

It had cost him a great effort to reach the place, firstly because this time he had no invisibility cloak that could hide him from curious student's eyes. He tried his best to produce a nice Disillusionment Charm, while walking as slow as possible. Stopping the branches of the Whomping Willow presented no problem, navigating the narrow tunnel was the difficult part. Even though he was not broad, he had grown a bit since the last time he had used this passage. Remus grimaced at the sound of torn fabric; he would have to deal with that later.

Just before entering, a terrifying idea occurred to him. Sirius could not be hiding here, could he? He could… How had he, Remus, never thought of it before? If Sirius was entering the school, why could possible keep him from using this place as a refuge?

Carefully, his wand at the ready, he emerged from the tunnel.

Surely Dumbledore must have checked on this place before, right? Knowing that it was a sure way to get inside the castle?

Remus looked at the floor, the even layer of dust looked unperturbed. No human, or animal for what mattered, had left any footprint on the surface. Making as little noise as possible, he walked through every room of the house that was so familiar to him. There was not a sign somebody had been there before.

Of course, Sirius would not use his Animagus form any more, would he? Why, if he must have learn enough dark-magic from his master to have many other ways to enter the school.

And yet…

The problem was not exactly Sirius, or the memories haunting Remus. The problem was that he knew something about his former friend, a way he might have been used to enter the school unnoticed. Nobody knew he could turn into a dog, nobody had ever found out. Was it possible that he had used that resource to enter the school? To escape Azkaban?

He thought about Harry once more, about how much he knew about the way his parents had died. He was learning to recognise James in this boy; the resemblances were not only physical. He would want to know, of course, and he would want to do something about it.

Shaking his head slowly, Remus got inside the tunnel and back to the school. He would have to keep an extra eye on Harry, not only to defend him, should it be necessary, but to prevent him to be just as reckless as his father had been.

* * *

***Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.**

**Thanks a lot to all the lovely reviewers of the last chapters. You guys are great and I can't thank you enough for all your support.**


	41. Dear Moony

**AN: Moony, Padfoot and all those wonderful characters are the property of one J. K. Rowling.**_  
_

* * *

_Dear Moony,_

_I am so sorry I could not get in touch in a while. It would be easier to say that since I am hiding, I couldn't find time or opportunity to do so. It would also be a lie._

_Once again I owe you an apology. I ruined it all for you mate. I can only imagine how great you must have been as a teacher and, I know you'll never admit it, how happy you were. Dumbledore told me that slime-bag talk a tad too much, as usual, and got you in trouble, but I know I'm to blame._

_It seems I am always to blame. _

_Never mind, self-pity won't take us anywhere._

_Tell me if it's ok for me to write you again, I realise that getting letters from an escaped Azkaban prisoner can't do you no good, but maybe you don't mind. And, Remus, I am really sorry._

_Padfoot_

Remus stared at the letter for a long time, with a knot in his chest. It was hastily written, using a Muggle pen and what looked like a piece of paper taken from a notebook. It did not give a hint about where had Sirius been when he had wrote the letter.

None of that was important though. He was actually apologising? For making Remus lose his position as a Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? It was ridiculous to say the least!

It took less than a second for Remus to grab his quill and write back. He knew exactly what he had to say, and it was time for him to be faced with his own shame again.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_You're barking mad, yes, pun intended. Why on earth should you apologise for? It was me the one who ruined it all for you. I keep thinking about what might have happened that night, had you not reacted the way you did, attacking me and preventing me to bite anybody. There were the kids, Snape, Wormtail, I could have attacked any of them!_

_And we were almost there, you were going to be free and Wormtail would pay for everything he had done to all of us… and I ruined it all. Never mind about a silly job, there were many things at stake that night. _

_I can practically see you rolling your eyes and telling me to stop it, but this time, mate, trust me, I am to blame. _

_And I am the one that should apologise for being so reckless and for… _

_The reason I didn't write to your first is that I know there is something else I have to apologise for and it is so painful and terrible… and I am really ashamed._

_I should have listened to you. That time in Azkaban. You tried to tell me, didn't you? I bet you'd tried to tell the Hit-Wizards before, and the Aurors, and maybe anybody who would listen that it hadn't been you, that it had been Wormtail all along. And then you tried to tell me and I didn't even give you the chance._

_Trust me, I'll never forgive myself for all those years wasted because of me. _

_I wonder if there's an end to the amount of times a man can do things wrong in his life. I can only wish I'm finished._

_You probably know they are looking for you all around the country and I bet they have let other governments know. Please keep your head down until we find a way to clear your name. _

_Moony_

* * *

_Dear Moony,_

_You know me, I usually stay out of trouble. _

_Anyway. No, you're not to be blamed and we're stopping this because it is difficult to get hold of something to write on and I'm not going to waste it trying to convince you that nothing of this is your fault. Just want to say one thing: you could've said I'm an Animagus and you didn't, so I owe you mate. Being that black dog is what's kept me alive all these years._

_I wanted to ask you something. I had tried to keep tabs on Harry but through two or three letters it's close to impossible. Could you keep an eye on him? I don't want you to waste time on it just… don't know, write Dumbledore or something of the sort._

_He had the chance to tell me you'd been trying to keep an eye open for Death Eater's activities. After that slime-bag escaped I daresay you must have your plate full as it is._

_I'm abroad, and obviously I won't tell you where. Just… it's quieter here. I wish I could get back._

_If there is something I'm satisfied with now, even if I'm spending most of my time hairy and begging for something to eat, is the fact that you finally know the truth. Knowing that you were convinced I was a traitor was one of the worse thoughts that came over while I was locked up. _

_Take care, old mate._

_Padfoot_

* * *

_Dear Padfoot_

_Since we've seemed to be aiming for honesty here, I'm glad too. It sounds so silly to say I'm glad you're not a traitor but… yes, I am. You've come back; there is still two of us left. Never mind… let's move on to more pressing matters._

_You'll never guess who's taking over the post as DADA teacher: Mad-Eye Moody. I can practically see you rolling your eyes. It is indeed a bizarre idea to put him in front of a classroom full of teenagers prone to pranks. I bet he's going to teach them not to tease a professor the hard way._

_Because you're probably wondering what sort of Bludger hit Dumbledore in the head, I'll explain a couple of things._

_They are going to hold the Triwizard Tournament this year at Hogwarts. From the beginning it struck me as a funny idea, why on earth would somebody suddenly had the idea of unearth this almost dead tradition? Apparently the matter had been discussed for many years now and finally they have come to an agreement. Dumbledore, of course, has his own motivations. He wants to get as close as possible to wizards from abroad in case we'd have to battle alongside shortly. From that point of view, it only makes sense._

_So, Moody is going to be there not only to teach, but also to keep an extra eye on things. Lately, since his retirement from active duty, he's become more paranoid by the hour. I guess that's just a logical consequence after all he's seen in his life. Just a couple of nights ago he activated some kind of alarm and got the Muggle police going to his house, they wrote a small would-be funny note about it in the Prophet and I got the rest of the story from him. _

_If you've been hanging around wizards, you must have heard about the incident during the Quidditch World Cup. I wasn't there but I got a message from Dumbledore almost as soon as it was over. I spent a couple of days following known Death Eaters in order to find out if they had been part of the display. I don't have any proves but I bet Crabbe was one of them; he's been acting stranger than usual lately. Maybe Malfoy was involved too, but I can't find a thing while following him._

_Later I found out Harry was there but don't worry, he is all right._

_There is just another thing. An Auror from the Ministry came over to make me some questions about the night you escaped. You remember Kingsley Shacklebolt? He was in our house, he's a couple of years younger… he's tasked to find you so he wanted to know if you and I had been in contact the past few months. Of course, I told him I had no idea where you might be, I think he bought it; he didn't seem to be very convinced when he arrived here in the first place._

_I'm telling you this so you'll keep your eyes open for that person or any Auror at all. Don't worry about me sending this letter. I've Apparated away to do so. _

_I'll keep you informed if something new comes up._

_Moony_

* * *

_Moony_

_How is it possible that an underage wizard, and Harry of all possible kids, was allowed to join as a Champion in the Tournament? I've just written to Dumbledore asking this very same question. Of course, I got the news very late, from an old wizard newspaper I found. _

_What's happening in the school?_

_The first idea I got, of course, was that somebody had put Harry's name in the goblet in order to put him a risky position. There are plenty of people who would love to see him harmed or even dead… but how is it possible that Dumbledore and the rest of the judges had allowed it?_

_Please tell me all you can find out about it._

_Padfoot_

_PS/ Yeah, I remember Shacklebolt. Back at school he seemed to be an ok bloke. Haven't seen him recently._

For many weeks Sirius letters were more or less all the same. Remus wished he could give him better answers to his questions or maybe only a bit of reassurance. It was impossible. He had even written to Dumbledore who had assured him every measure had been made to ensure Harry's safety. And yet, it all was so strange he could not help but fear something bad was about to happen.

At first, he had eagerly learned every pieced there had been written about the Tournament. Only when his indignation became too big he could not even focus on the few facts that were hidden amongst all the rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote, he decided against it. Just trying another way, he wrote to Madam Pomfrey; the answer was much better than expected. Now she was keeping him posted from any new things happening at Hogwarts. Of course she was not terribly inquisitive and he would never dare to "task" her to look for something for him, but still her letter had proven to be a good source.

Reading between the lines though, he could picture what was at stake in that Tournament. He was torn about that concrete perspective and the also very real fear of Sirius doing something reckless in order to try to protect Harry and thus, being discovered and captured by the Ministry. Regarding this, he was not mistaken, he realised it even before opening Sirius letter: it was writing on an old edition of the Daily Prophet.

_Dear M,_

_I'm back, you can imagine where. And I'll be near and on the watch. _

_I've managed to see them, they'll all right. _

_Of course, I can't be much precise than this._

_I'm worried. Something doesn't seem right. Too many funny things are happening and I can't put my finger on what exactly should we stop. I want to know, to be prepared, but how to be prepared for something you're not even sure is coming? Or how will it eventually come?_

_I won't be able to keep in touch as often. Still, let me know if you hear something funny._

_P._

* * *

_P._

_I haven't heard from Mad-Eye in a long while. Since we don't write to each other a lot, at first I didn't realise. When you asked me to find out what was going I wrote to him but got no answer. I just dropped it, because you know him, he probably burned the thing to ashes before reading it fearing it might be jinxed._

_I've tried a couple of other times do so and so far no answer. I know he's though but, should I be worried?_

_Other than that, no news. _

_I've read Harry's only got one last task ahead of him. I have to say I'll be relieved to see the end of it. _

_I know it's useless to say this, but take care, all right?_

_M._

For a long moment, Remus considered going to Hogwarts, hidden, just to see Harry finish the third task unharmed and maybe even Padfoot lurking around. At the end he decided against it. If he got found, his presence would raise a lot of funny questions he was not willing to answer, not to mention accusations.

So he had done something he very rarely did, he went to spend some time at the Leaky Cauldron to hear the local gossip. It had proven to be useless. The Tournament, unlike the Quidditch Would Cup, would not be broadcast and nobody in the pub had a close relative at Hogwarts.

Thinking he would better be home and wait for Madam Pomfrey's owl or maybe even something from Sirius, he walked back to his flat.

He had just climbed the stairs when he saw it. Remus almost gasped out loud, but at the last second, he managed to remain calm. A large black do was sitting on his front door, slowly waving his tail.

* * *

**Thank you all very much! **

**In a comment somebody asked me if I was to write down which is the correspondent chapter in Tonks' Tale. I haven't thought abut it, but, since you're asking, this one happens between chapters 36 and 37. Yes, she's right around the corner.**

**Cheers!**


	42. Remus had learned to be patient

_June 26__th__ 1995._

Remus had learned to be patient, but in times like these, it seemed to be as impossible a feature as preventing his monthly transformations. He had his orders, though, he had to wait. And he knew the wait would not be much longer; the situation was grave enough and he knew that sooner than later he would have difficult remembering a time like this in which he could quietly drink a cup of tea, sitting in his kitchen.

Two nights ago, when Sirius had come to his door, his orders for both of them had been to stay put and way for further orders. For a heartbeat, Remus thought the orders would take a while to reach them but he should have known better.

It had been a long while since he had seen Dumbledore's phoenix Patronus last; the message was clear. He, Remus, had to wait at his place; late at night somebody would come over, and for what the Patronus had said, Remus understood there would be more than one, in order to set chores that would lead to reform the Order. After both of them had talked to Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, there had been no specific orders for Sirius but he had his own agenda. He was trying to track down Wormtail, as he had said it, _with or without Dumbledore's permission._

Remus suspected that, considering the graveness of Mad-Eye Moody's injuries, it would have been better for them to meet in the castle or at the old Auror's house. He was no fool though; he knew that now that Fudge was in denial, the school would be under sharp scrutiny. Setting it as the place to held what might probably be the first meeting of the Order would not have been wise at all.

From all the bad news Sirius had told him when he had come to his place, what had happened to Mad-Eye was one of the most disturbing ones. Of course he had felt almost as if his heart had come to a stop when hearing about Voldemort regaining his body and strength, but they had suspected he would for a long time now. And then he had almost shivered when Sirius had told him how James and Lily's ghostly forms had emerged from Voldemort's wand, that had been their past coming again.

But the fact that somebody could have successfully attacked Alastor Moody was an idea so strange and terrible he could not help but think somebody had made a mistake. How was it possible for anybody to surprise the paranoid Auror and worse, to keep him hostage for months, without him fighting back?

Remus feared that no matter how terrible the last war had been, the people fighting for the other side had now gotten much more serious.

Somebody knocked on his door, and Remus stood up from the kitchen table, his wand well hidden but at the ready. He could not remember when he had decided to be this ready for a struggle; it seemed to be a second nature to him, now that he knew things were getting difficult again.

The person standing outside his door was one of the last ones he would have expected to see. Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing still, looking at him expressionless. The only difference from the previous time the Auror had been at his door is that, this time, he was not wearing Auror robes.

"Good evening," Remus said, trying his best to hide his surprise and fear.

Dumbledore was about to come, and maybe not alone. How would they explain an Auror his presence there? He decided that would be something for the Headmaster to explain.

"Good evening, Lupin," Shacklebolt was saying. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," Remus said, pointing at the old furniture in his living room. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

The Auror nodded.

"That would be nice."

It took Remus less than a minute to pour the tea and to decide that this was no coincidence. He could imagine what had happened. In his paranoia Fudge had tasked the Ministry Aurors to check on known former members of the old Order of the Phoenix, it was just logical. His name, of course, must be somewhere around the top of the list; adding up to the fact that he was considered to be a dangerous Dark Creature.

He gave Shacklebolt the steaming mug and sat across from him. For a moment nobody said a thing. Remus could not help but thank the fact that Sirius would not come back; even in his dog form it would be dangerous.

"To what… do I owe this pleasure?" Remus finally asked.

The Auror took a sip of his tea; he seemed to be weighing his words carefully.

"I reckon," he said slowly, "we are expecting somebody else."

Remus did not know what to said, or even if it had been a question or a statement. _Does he know Dumbledore and, Merlin knows, who else are coming? Is he talking about somebody else from his lot?_

The minutes stretched and the silence grew so heavy, Remus was actually relieved when somebody knocked at his door. He did not care anymore if out there was a bunch of Aurors, he just needed to know.

"Good evening, Remus," Dumbledore was smiling, though he could see in his eyes he was worried. Nobody else was coming with him.

"Good evening, Albus."

Dumbledore spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had stood up, and his smile grew a little wider.

"Ah, good evening Kingsley. I am sorry you had to wait for me. Remus, I daresay you know Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Yes, I do know Auror Shacklebolt." He did not mean to put such en emphasis in the word Auror; it just had escaped him that way.

The Auror's expression was blank. He could be angry or scared or just plain worried, but Remus could not tell.

"Thank you for having us here, Remus, on such a short notice." Dumbledore closed the door at his back and took a sit in the last unoccupied armchair of Remus' living room. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat as well and Remus followed their example. "I expect Sirius had told you all bout the tragic events of the past days?"

For a split of a second, Remus looked at Shacklebolt's expression. He had been tasked with the search of Sirius, had he not? He had been at this very apartment, asking him questions and looking as somebody quite serious about his job.

"He had," Remus finally said.

Dumbledore seemed to have read some of his thoughts.

"We had been talking to Kingsley for a while now. That night, a year ago, when Sirius escaped, he was not part of the taskforce the Ministry for Magic sent to the school in order to apprehend Black. He did come the next day, freshly tasked to lead the search for Azkaban's only fugitive. Of course there was nothing I could have told him about what had really happened back then, but I could not help but noticing how thorough he was on every step of the investigation. Through the months he had stayed in touch and now he had come to ask me how much truth there is in the rumours about Voldemort and Harry Potter."

Shacklebolt's expression seemed to be frozen but for a soft rise of his eyebrows.

"I was never really convinced about the official account of what happened that night," he finally spoke, "nor have I been satisfied with the fact that, back then, he had been sent to Azkaban without a trial. I was too young, still at school, so I could not know much about it at the time. Later on though, when I had to go through his files, I found some inconsistencies."

"What sort of inconsistencies?" Remus asked, looking at him with increased curiosity.

"I reckon there was a witch hunt back then. The Ministry was more than eager to capture as many Death Eaters as possible; some of them became a risk almost as great as You-Know-Who. And I am certain there is more than one prisoner in Azkaban that ought not to be there."

At that thought, Remus shuddered.

"After the tragic events of the Tournament," Dumbledore spoke again, "Kingsley was tasked to go to Hogwarts and run an investigation."

"I couldn't do a thing," now it was bitterness in the Auror's expression. "The Dementors had arrived first and the only link I had to the truth, Barty Crouch Jr., was in no condition to speak or recollect a thing. They would not take into account Harry Potter's testimony or that of those who had actually heard Crouch's confession. That's when I requested a private word with the headmaster. I cannot work inside the Ministry knowing that there are very grave things going on the Minister is willing to ignore."

A question was pressing Remus' being. _How can we be sure he's not spying us for the Minister?_ He could not say it aloud though and, just as the moment he had met Snape again, back in Hogwarts, he wondered about the apparent easiness Dumbledore always displayed in matters of trust.

"I have realised though," Shacklebolt continued, "that the best way I can help, for the time being, is remaining inside the Ministry, where I can find out information that might help us fight the real fight."

"As Sirius might have told you, Remus," the headmaster spoke again, "we are reforming the Order of the Phoenix."

Remus just nodded.

"Alastor Moody, of course, will join us. He had wanted to come tonight but he's still not ready to leave the Hospital Wing back at school."

"How bad is he?" Remus asked feeling a clod shiver running down his spine.

"He's gaining his strength back." Dumbledore said, and Remus could picture in his mind the old Auror, tired of being forced to rest, maybe even angry with himself for getting caught in the first place, fussing around and trying to get off bed. He could not help but to feel sorry for Madam Pomfrey or whoever might be taking care of him. The headmaster spoke again, "The night of the Third Task, Molly Weasley was in the castle. I don't know if you know her or her husband." Remus shook his head. "They will join us. The last war their children were too small so naturally they had to take care of other matters. This time now, they are willing to fight and at the ready."

"I know Arthur Weasley," Kingsley said. "I reckon is good to have somebody else inside the Ministry."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Which leads me to a message Moody wants me to pass along to you, Kingsley. He thinks there might be somebody else inside the Ministry that might be willing to work with us. Another Auror."

Shacklebolt frowned slightly.

"Who…? Oh I see," for the first time, he smiled slightly. "_She_."

"I gather you are familiar with Miss Tonks?"

"I am, and I can see why Moody would want her to join us. He's been sort of attached to her right from the beginning of her training… and she is skilled."

Dumbledore smiled as well and Remus had the feeling he was being deliberately kept on the dark on something. With almost all his life being regarded as a danger for wizarding society, he had learned to distrust Aurors.

"Alastor thinks she is ready, but he wants your opinion; he says you know her good enough. I think after the events of the past year, Alastor had grown even more careful about where to place his trust. So, he wants you to check on her and, if you think she will be an asset instead of a risk, you should tell her to join us in our next meeting, which will be held tomorrow evening at the Weasleys."

Shacklebolt just nodded.

"Remus," Dumbledore addressed him again. "I will ask you and Sirius to come over as well. Right now we are in a desperate need of proper Headquarters, that's why we had been having these of small meeting in different locations. Tomorrow, though, we will meet with everybody who, so far, is willing to join this new Order of the Phoenix. We need to know each other and we need to set up some new tasks."

Remus nodded but his mind was drifting away from the conversation. He could remember, almost as if it had been yesterday, a younger version of himself standing in front of Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, waiting for him to come out in order to ask him to join the fight against the Death Eaters. He had not know about a thing back then; it had seemed to be such a wonderful perspective, glamorous even, to fight against the worst threat the wizarding world had had so far.

There was nothing left of that feeling now. On the insides he felt… emptiness and coldness. He knew know what terrible things were lying ahead and he also knew that, the next day in that meeting at the Weasley's he would not help to look around and wonder which member of this new Order would die first. Who would be severely wounded in a battle? Who would he have to save or who would have to save him? And of course, what would happen at the end? _Will_ there be an end?

"We have a head start this time," Dumbledore said quietly, almost as if he had been reading Remus' thoughts. "We are much more organised."

None of them spoke for a long moment. Finally the headmaster stood up and Kingsley Shacklebolt followed his example.

"I will bid you a good night."

* * *

**AN: We are approaching to my favourite part of all seven books and I am feeling more than excited. Thank you lot for reading and reviewing! Cheers!**

**[This happens after Ch 38 in Tonks' Tale]**


	43. The wand pointing at his chest

**AN: I own one hard-cover copy of "Order of the Phoenix". That's it. The rest belongs to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

_June 27__th__ 1995._

Despite of the tip of the wand pointing at his and Sirius' chests in turn, Remus could not take his eyes off the hand holding it. It was a small woman's hand, rather callous; what was remarkable about it was the grip, firm, precise. Without any logical explanation of why, Remus was suddenly reminded of Mad-Eye Moody.

The person holding the wand though looked nothing like the old Auror. She was quite young, with bright lemon green hair and a general cheery appearance completely at odds with the menacing gesture.

He and Sirius had just Apparated outside a place called 'the Burrow', where Dumbledore had told them the first official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix would take place, only to find a split second after a tip of a wand pointing at them. They had drawn their wands out as well, but from his side it was a mere reflex. He very much doubted he had to be afraid of the witch in front of them.

"Easy there," Sirius was saying.

"_Stupefy_!"

The curse, precisely casted, took him by surprise, and more so the fact that her target had been squarely hit by it. Before Remus could register Sirius' expression of surprise and outrage, he was lying on the ground, his wand rolling away from his nonexistent grip. The unknown woman's wand was now pointing directly at him.

It was understandable: she had recognized Sirius from the too many posters with his picture that had been spread up and down the country a couple of years ago. She had done the right thing with such haste and exactitude it was all but admirable.

Remus felt a sudden urge to laugh. She was probably a new Order member, and quite young at that, whom nobody had yet told about Sirius' innocence. He tried to imagine his friend's expression when he finally woke up; that was something he, Remus, would not miss for the world.

"Drop your wand or you'll be next," the woman said, surprising him with the harshness of his voice. There was no hesitation: it was the voice of somebody expecting to be obeyed.

She surely was meaning business. It would be better to make a couple of things clear to her before following Sirius on the ground.

"I'd like to expl-"

"_Expeliarmus_!"

Just as her previous spell, this one took him by surprise. His fingers snapped uselessly as his wand flew from his grip tracing a wide arch, to land cleanly on her hand.

"I think you're making a mistake here." He had to say something, do something to buy him some time until some other member of the Order would come here and clear things out. Where there any chances of tackling her the Muggle way before getting hit by one of her too-well aimed spells?

"Am I?" she almost sneered.

He could not decide what was more menacing, the arching of her eyebrow or the slight movement in the point of her wand, so to direct it exactly to his chest.

Just then, with a loud _crack_ Mad-Eye Moody materialised a few meters from them. Remus let go a breath he had not been conscious he had been holding. He would surely help him convincing that green-haired person she was making a huge mistake.

"Wotcher, Mad-Eye," she said, not looking away from Remus and without dropping neither her cold tones nor her wand.

It seemed to take more than a second for Moody to evaluate the situation; finally he cracked in that husky and very rare laughter of his.

"What's so funny?" the woman demanded, and Remus could not help but notice a hit of indignation in her voice.

"Did you just stun Sirius Black and disarm Remus Lupin?" the Auror was surely having the time of his life.

"I don't know who this one is, but they were together. And yes, I stunned Black," her voice had lost a little of her confidence. If he was to tackle her, this would have been the perfect moment. Although the tip of her wand was still firmly pointing at him, he very much doubted she would be quick enough at the spell casting. And yet, every little assumption he had made about her so far had proven to be wrong.

"Lower your wand, lass," Moody said.

"No bloody way," she snapped.

"Do as you're told and I'll explain."

The inner struggle was almost visible and it was something really amusing. She finally lowered her wand, looking at him with caution, almost as if she was expecting him to do exactly what he had been planning to do, attack her even without his wand.

Moody's pat on her back seemed hard enough to break a few bones, but apparently she was used to that.

"Constant vigilance, eh? I've taught you well." He was still laughing, and Remus had the feeling that with that praise, the Auror was also mocking him for having got caught in such an easy way.

"Would you care to explain to me what's going on?" the woman asked coolly. Apparently she was not to be distracted.

Remus suddenly remembered the man knocked out cold at his feet.

"Shouldn't we get Sirius up first?" he suggested.

"Nah! He'll be fine," Moody answered. Trust the Auror not to care about people getting stunned. "Tonks on the other hand may attack us both if we don't tell her right away what this all is about."

He was now mocking both of them, now Remus was sure of that. He wondered if the woman would jump and attack Moody just as quickly as she had done with him and Sirius.

"You see, Tonks," Moody continued, now in a slightly more stern voice, "we've been mistaken about your dear cousin Sirius here."

"He's no family of mine," she snapped, and Remus was surprised on how hard her voice could sound.

"For Merlin's beard he is." Moody snapped back. "I'll tell you what he's not. He's not a murderer… at least, not now. He might try to kill you when we wake him up, though."

"What?" her eyes darted from Moody to Remus to the unconscious Sirius as if she wanted the latter two to confirm that the Auror had gone insane. "What are you talking about, Mad-Eye?"

"He wasn't the one who killed all those Muggles, it was that pathetic excuse of a wizard Peter Pettigrew."

_Here's a little bit of facts for you, miss_, Remus thought, amused at her flabbergasted expression as Moody explained how Peter was alive and Sirius, innocent.

"Now, stop being so stubborn and trust me. _Enervate,_" he finished, pointing his own wand at Sirius.

Remus could see Sirius was buying some time while getting up. He was trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, he spoke to Moody.

"Let me guess, Mad-Eye. You're the one who taught this witch here to stun first and ask questions later?"

Only Mad-Eye Moody could mix in a couple of gestures pride and sneer; to whom they were directed was not that clear.

"Tonks, let me introduce you… or re-introduce you… to your mother's cousin Sirius Black and his friend Remus Lupin. This is Nymphadora Tonks."

Now that name surely rang a bell. Just the night before Dumbledore and Shacklebolt had mentioned a Miss Tonks but it was not that. It was a name he had known from before.

"Tonks?" Sirius was now beaming. "Is that you? You're so… grown up!"

Of course, Tonks had been the name of the man Sirius' cousin had married. Remus had to think for a moment which cousin had that been. _The only one who had not turned out to be a power-thirsty Death Eater… Andromeda?_

Trying to place somebody inside the Blacks' genealogy was not an easy task.

"It's nice to meet you again, Nymphadora," Sirius said, beaming broadly, and gave her a big bear hug.

_Unwise move, mate_.

She had not been ready for that and it was quite understandable. It had been difficult for him meeting Sirius again after so many years of believing he was a murderer. The mistrust was surely difficult for him because of his own life, but that did not mean it would be easy for the rest of the world. As a matter of fact, it was as hard for everybody else to accept that they had lived through more than a decade of lies.

"Don't call me that unless you want me to stun the daylights out of you again," the green-haired witched snapped again. "It's Tonks."

That was the fierce, stubborn personality; she was a Black all right.

Moody was ushering them inside now. There was an Order meeting about to begin. Sirius followed the Auror and Remus was about to do the same; only there was just this detail she seemed to have forgotten.

"Tonks?" he called, not sure if this was the proper way to address her. She turned around, surprised. "Do you mind giving me my wand back?"

Her blush was visible even at the poorly illuminated backyard of the Weasleys. Hastily, she took one of the wands and thrust it in his outstretched palm.

"The other one, I think," he said almost chuckling.

"Bollocks," she said, more than flustered. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise…"

She took the wand he was offering her and gave him the other one.

"Don't worry about it," he smiled at her. "It was one of the nicest disarming spells I've ever had the misfortune to receive."

He had wanted to take a look at her expression; seeing her just a tad embarrassed moments after fearing she might jinx him to the ground seemed to be a fair enough reward. He could remember James, though, and the way he would just walk away after teasing somebody, not lingering around to wait for the desired reaction for he knew it would be there.

It had been indeed a long while since the last time he had thought about James in those terms, just careless and young and sure of himself, and the thought almost distracted him of the green-haired witch's spell-casting.

Most of what was being said at the beginning of the meeting was not news to him and he suspected there were not news for the others either. The main scope for this meeting was to get the group together for the first time, for Dumbledore to be sure they were all aware of what was coming to them. He was distracted though.

Maybe it was the brightness of her hair, or just her general cheery demeanour, he was not sure; the fact remained that he was having difficulties to keep his eyes off her. Or maybe it was just because he knew more or less by heart what Dumbledore was talking about. Still the fact remained that this woman, Tonks, had succeeded in casting away all his previous fears, almost as if she had made the old ghosts from his past disappear. He would never have thought it possible.

There she was, sitting straight and looking at them all with bright eyes. She was just like a younger version of himself or any of his friends, getting ready to fight for the first time, so foolishly unaware of what they were getting into.

For a moment he considered talking to her later, telling her that there was no use on being this eager to fight, that all her excitement would die soon enough and that nothing good could ever come from that. He discarded the idea almost at once. Who had entitled him to say such things to somebody whose enthusiasm he actually envied?

She would learn soon enough, she would realise what she was getting herself into. And meanwhile, was it so wrong to feel excited, and important, and even powerful?

He looked at Sirius. His jaw was clenched and the permanent haunted air Azkaban had given him was present and yet, he recognised the same glow in his eyes. He was excited too, even if for very different reasons.

And he, Remus?

He looked at the room once more. Mundungus was for once wide awake, his weary eyes fixed in Dumbledore, Sirius at his side; Arabella Figg, clutching her handbag and looking grave; Kingsley Shacklebolt, his expression blank and his fists clenched; Arthur Weasley looking tired and pale; Mad-Eye Moody, following Dumbledore's every word with a grimace of impatience. Molly, Arthur's wife, was also the Prewett brothers' older sister, although she did not look at all like them; sitting at Tonks' side, looking at everybody else just the way he was doing. She had given him some badly-hidden side glances and Remus was too familiar with that sort of behaviour to be bothered by it. Somebody had told her he was a werewolf and she was not comfortable with the fact.

So, this was it, the new Order of the Phoenix. More members would come, he knew he could count on Minerva McGonagall joining them and Sirius had told him even Snape had been recruited.

How many of them would still sit here in a month? A year? Whatever time it would take them to finish off Voldemort? Who would be the first one to die? Remus shook his head softly. That sort of thoughts would not make it any easier when- if that happened. He had no use for pessimism at the moment.

When the meeting was over he mechanically accepted Molly Weasley's general invitation to stay over for dinner. He knew she was asking him out of courtesy since she was asking everybody else, including Sirius now standing at his side.

Remus saw Moody whisper something to Tonks and the both of them said good-bye to the people on the living room. He fixed his eyes on her again, and when she looked back at him, he had no idea what had made him wink at her.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot to ThisLoveHasNoCeiling, Blue Luver5000, Tonks23, Skippy Agogo, MuggleCreator, catwalkingowl, ttcrews, Louey06, ano, NeverBeenDarkMarked, login password, TearsOfaSingingPhoenix and QueenCobraWing for such wonderful reviews! **

**[Tonks' Ch 41]**

**Cheers!**


	44. What if I run for it?

_June 29__th__, 1995._

"What if I run for it?"

"What do you mean exactly?"

Sirius took another large sip from his glass.

"I mean just going away. Stay hidden as I had for the past two years, and try to help you from outside."

Remus looked at his own glass, almost full, and at the dusty kitchen. Finally, he focused on his friend's eyes. He was still not used to see how weary those eyes looked like these days and yet, how it was still possible to see his old school friend in them sometimes. Like this one.

"You mean going rogue, and against Dumbledore's orders."

Sirius emptied his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it with a generous dose.

"More or less, yes."

"You know I couldn't let you do that, do you?"

"Let's say you don't have a choice," Sirius arched an eyebrow and leaned forward looking directly at Remus. "Let's say I'll stun you and run for it."

"I'm not your guard, Sirius."

"Then you'll let me go," he smiled and leaned back on his chair.

The discussion was becoming repetitive, and although Remus knew that deep down Sirius would not do any of the things he was saying, he felt sorry for his friend. The arrival at number 12, Grimmauld Place, had been terrible enough.

Sirius had made his best to look nonchalant about it, showing the place around and explaining him and Dumbledore how the house was unplottable and well protected. And yet, Remus could see the hatred in his eyes, the desperation of having to walk these corridors again, of being back at the place he hated so much.

And then, inexplicably, Dumbledore had started talking about him, Sirius, going into hiding.

"_Hiding?" Sirius had repeated blankly. "That's what I've been doing so far, haven't I?"_

"_That is not quite what I mean, Sirius." Dumbledore said, and Remus could tell, from the tone of his voice, that he was sorry he had to say what was on his mind. "The past two years you've been on the run, hiding all right, but trusting on your being an Animagus to be a secret. We cannot assume that is the case anymore."_

"_What do you mean?" _

"_Wormtail," Remus had said suddenly realising._

"_Precisely," Dumbledore continued. "I think it would be foolish not to assume Wormtail would have already told Voldemort how the three of you had become Animagus. They know how you look like both as a human and as an animal."_

"_Maybe they've known it all along, since he became a traitor all those years ago," Sirius prompted._

_Remus realised where Dumbledore was heading and he could see Sirius was starting to see it as well._

"_That might be the case, but back then, without somebody to direct them, the remaining Death Eaters where not much of a threat for you. Now they are organised and they are starting to plan and to execute those plans. Therefore, if they know what you look like now, you're in danger in your human and in your dog form."_

_Sirius shook his head._

"_What-?"_

"_And we cannot discard the possibility of Lucius Malfoy actually telling this to somebody in the Ministry."_

"_Kingsley had not reported it," Sirius said._

"_Not yet."_

"_So, what are you suggesting?" there was coldness in Sirius voice and Remus knew it was a rhetorical question. Sirius very well knew what Dumbledore was aiming for._

"_I am saying that for the time being, that is to say, until your name is cleared again, you should hide in here."_

"_Here?"_

_The light went off Sirius eyes. Remus followed his friend's gaze running through the hall and up the staircase, resting a moment on the beheaded elves and the family portraits now sound asleep. Finally he looked at the black curtains and Remus could swear he had shuddered._

"_Inside headquarters, yes," Dumbledore said._

"_What use would that be for anybody?" Sirius said._

"_Isn't there another place?" Remus added almost at once and, for a second, it seemed as if the two of them were school kids, instead of grown-ups, asking for mercy in front of a punishment._

"_I am afraid not," Dumbledore said, shaking his head a little. "You've both know how difficult it had been for us to find a place that could work as headquarters. In this sense, Sirius, your generous offer is ideal. I would like you both to realise though, how dangerous for all of us could be, should you be captured not only by the Ministry but by Voldemort's followers."_

"Can I at least hear what you think about this?" Sirius said, reaching for the bottle again.

Remus' hand was quicker; he grabbed the dusty bottle and placed it under the table, right next to his chair. Sirius growled unconvincingly.

"What I think…"

"Do you agree with Dumbledore?"

Remus sighed. Of course he did not agree with Dumbledore but how could he said that without giving Sirius more arguments to try to bypass the order.

"I think this is not about you."

"What is that supposed to mean? I am the one who's gonna expend Merlin knows how long a time in this wretched place! _Decontaminating_ it!" Sirius sneered at the word. "There is no decontamination of a Black, there never has been. Rotten from the beginning."

He knew he did not mean it. Remus' thought about Tonks for a moment; that other Black that proved Sirius wrong.

"What I mean is that you're not alone anymore, for better or worse. If the Death Eaters catch you, they could torture the Order's whereabouts out of you."

"I never would say-"

"You don't know that. There's veritaserum, the Imperius course, and as far as we know, even a handful of new things they've been inventing all these years."

"But I could-"

"Besides," Remus drowned whatever Sirius was about to say, "there is something else you must think about, other than us. And trust me mate, I hate to be the one pointing the obvious to you."

Sirius did not say a thing but lowered his eyes and kept them fixed on the table for a long time.

"I know what you mean."

"You're the only one he's got left."

"He's got you."

Remus laughed bitterly. "It's not the same and you know it."

"But while being on the run last year I was able to be closer, to help him."

It was Remus' turn to take another sip from his Firewhiskey.

"What would happen to Harry if you get caught? Who'd he have left?"

Sirius grunted again.

"He loves you," Remus continued, "he looks up to you. Especially that! I'd never believe I would say something like this but you have to set an example… and you have to be safe, for him. He's still a boy and he needs you."

For a moment none of them said a thing.

"I hate Dumbledore's orders too, if that's what you want to hear." Remus finally said. "I would've wanted to fight with us; there is no one in the world I rather have fighting at my side against those Death Eaters. I was almost looking forward to that! Training! Going over new spells! Practising our old moves! You're an asset at a fight, there's no doubt about it. Having said that, we all know what the priorities are, all right? We have to keep the boy safe and that-"

Somebody had knocked on the front door and the screeching noise that followed was enough to make Remus and Sirius jump.

"_Who dares trespassing the house of my ancestors? Who's disturbing the Noble and most Ancient house of Black?"_

"It cannot be!" Sirius jumped off his chair and up the stairs to the hall, his wand at the ready.

"Who's there?"

Remus caught up with him. The large black velvety curtain on the wall was now open and there was… first Remus thought it was a real woman screaming from the threshold of another room. A moment later he realised it was a real-size painting of a woman. A very familiar-looking woman.

"_YOOOU!_" she was now pointing a bony white finger at Sirius, who was gaping at her with loathe. "_Shame of my flesh! Filth! Disgrace!_ _How dare you come back here? Befouling the house of my ancestors with your filthy demeanours!_"

There were other yells filling up the corridor. The other portraits had woken up and were yelling down at them as well, but none of their voices were strong enough to drown the woman's.

The person standing outside the door knocked again and the woman on the painting let out an unearthly yell.

"_Disgrace to the House of Black!_"

"Shut up you disgraceful woman, shut-the-hell-up!"

"Who's-?"

"My mother!" Sirius yelled, aiming one _Stupefy_ after the other at the painting. It did nothing but increase the rage and the screaming.

There was yet more knocks at the other side of the front door.

"_What sort of scum is embarrassing my house? Filth! Abominations! Mudbloods!_"

"Let him in, whoever this is!" Sirius yelled, pointing his wand at the other portraits and trying to shut them up. At passing, Remus could see he was succeeded, but as soon as the woman resumed her screaming, the portraits would wake up again."

Pointing his wand outside, he opened the door.

Molly Weasley was standing outside, her wand at the ready as well. Her eyes opened wide when she looked at him.

"What on-?"

"There's no time, Molly, come on in!"

Without worrying of the possibility of her still being afraid of him because he was a werewolf, he took her from the elbow and pulled her inside the hall. The screaming seemed to have grown louder.

"_Shame of the wizarding kind! Muggle-lover! How you dare letting such filth come over to my house!_"

"Shut up, you deranged woman!"

Sirius was no longer trying to stun the painting; it seemed both of them were engaged in a shouting match. Molly looked at the scene wide eyed until she darted forward and took hold of the black curtain.

"We have to close this!" she said, panting. "Help me!"

Remus was at her side in an instant and, with an enormous effort, both of them succeeded in closing it shut.

"Get the others!" Remus called.

There was no need. Sirius was already firing spells at the rest of the screaming portraits. A moment later, the hall was eerie quiet again, though Remus could feel his ears ringing.

In silence, he pointed Molly to the door at the end of the corridor and the three of them went inside the kitchen. For a moment nobody spoke.

"So, you've met my mother," Sirius finally said, taking the bottle off the floor and filling his abandoned glass again. He dried it in one. "I'm sorry you had to."

"Enchanting woman," Molly said.

Remus could not help but chuckle. It all seemed so out of place and yet, so predictable considering they were at the Black's old house.

"It's a relief to see death had no taken her charms away," Sirius nodded.

"That's why you told us to keep quiet when we first came with Dumbledore?" Remus asked.

Sirius shook his head.

"I didn't know of _that_ portrait, believe me. But since I was a kid I've known it's always better to keep quiet in here. Never thought of something that terrible that's for sure," he shuddered. "I can't believe that maniac woman!"

"We need to take that portrait off the wall, that's it," Molly said, and without further ado she pointed her wand at the dust-covered counter of the kitchen. Some of the filth disappeared.

"How did you know we had to close the curtains, Molly?" Remus asked realising that, if it had not been for her, he and Sirius could still be upstairs, struggling with the screaming.

Molly smiled, although Remus could see she was still eyeing him with a little reserve.

"My Granny had placed the same enchantment on one portrait at her house. Or something very similar. It wasn't _her _mother, it was just this very old singer who would squeak those horrible songs… the only way to quiet her was to close the curtain in front of the portrait."

"How did you get rid of it?" Sirius asked, genuinely interested.

"We took the picture off the wall the moment she passed away," Molly said, matter-of-factly.

"Knowing that woman, she'd probably put something on the wall to make that thing impossible to move," Sirius grunted.


	45. Very few times he had felt this way

_July 17__th__, 1995._

There had been very few times he had felt this way. Each of them had been related to a specific moment, twice to a specific woman, none of them quite like this one. The realization of this, while having his morning coffee at Grimmauld Place's kitchen almost made him drop his mug. It was fortunate Sirius was not up yet and Arthur and Molly were long gone, for he very much suspected his face might just be showing a tad too much of what was going on inside his brain.

The first time had been almost twenty years ago, at Hogwarts. That had been a girl all right and it had been the first time he had felt just like he was starting to feel right now. Being with her seemed to promise a constant flow of discoveries and he was practically aching to get to the next revelation, the next touch. Even if they had not had much to say to each other, Remus always felt like he was missing something whenever he had not been with Mary. That would only feed his anticipation for the next encounter, which would make it both better and worse. Better because he would finally see her, worse because, truth to be told, it was more an idea than a reality and Mary had never quite met his expectations.

The second time he had felt like this there had not been a woman at all. Training with Frank and Alice Longbottom produced this sort of anticipation. He remembered going to bed sore and yet filled with energy, eagerly waiting for the next day to come so he could go back to their house and continue learning. It was almost tangible the way he felt his universe expand with every new spell or theory, and he seemed to have gotten addicted to those.

There had been another girl later, but it had not been her provoking the feeling but what they had done. If her real name had been Laura or not, he did not know and he suspected was not really important. That night something had changed in him, and it was not only the tangible things they had done together but more of an internal shift. In later months and years Remus had often dwelled on what exactly had it been and, even though it sounded almost impossible, he had realised it had been comfort. That night he had learned he would survive on his own and it would be all right. Over the years he sought that particular feeling and whenever he had found it, it had been a worthy accomplishment. Never, though, as intense and unexpected like that first time, so long ago.

The last pack he had been with, some time ago while he was living abroad, gave him that sort of especial feeling once again. It had been the first and only pack he had met that had refused to attack humans. Again, the potential seemed to be strong, and the realities of every day had been much like his time with Mary… a set of unmet expectations. Only this time he did not linger to see what would happen, he had known what those unmet expectations could do and he was not keen to savour that bitterness on him again.

Remus stood up to wash the mug on the sink the Muggle way; it gave him some extra time to think. What he was starting to feel now seemed to be like a mix of all those feelings but it was so wrong and strange and absurdly misplaced. At first he had thought it was just the excitement of re-joining the Order of the Phoenix.

There was no point on denying him that, to some extent, he did enjoy some of the aspects of his current situation; maybe, just as Dumbledore and Moody had told him more than once, he was not meant to be a fighter, but there was no denying he was good at it. Then, he though his renewed friendship with Sirius might have something to do as well. But those feelings alone were not good enough to cover this familiar, yet so very strange emotion.

The truth was it was a woman, once again. A girl really, and that was just one of the things that were so wrong. The anticipation was there, the longing, almost the need to find what would come next in this constant flow of surprises. There had been many coincidences; he had seen them since they had first met at the Weasleys and then that time when she had asked him to walk with her. They had came outside Grimmauld Place last, after one long, very heavy Order meeting and Tonks had asked him if he would walk with her for a while. They had talked, she had shared some of her fears and thoughts and, above it all, he had found somebody who seemed to get what he was thinking.

All those little facts, comments, nothing tangible really, were adding to this very odd expectation of his.

But how could there be any coincidences at all, if they were so painfully different? With only one glance at them anyone could see it was like a bad joke: his greyish, worn-out self next to the bubbly personality of that Metamorphmagus, without even mentioning she was much younger than him...

He tried to find an answer to this question while filling up a flask with fresh coffee and grabbing two clean mugs. Maybe it was this difference that fascinated him, maybe he just liked that other point of view she always seemed to have about everything.

Or maybe, he thought right before checking he was perfectly covered by the Invisibility Cloak and spinning around on the dark alley to Disapparate to Little Whinging, his life had been so dull lately, he just needed something to occupy his mind.

Moody had ordered them to Apparate far enough from Privet Drive whenever starting or ending their guard duty on Harry; he was a cleaver boy after all, bond to recognise the _crack_ of an Apparition should he hear one. The walk at the early hours of the morning was not unpleasant and this time he tried to enjoy the anticipation he was lately feeling right before an Order meeting would start. Right before seeing her, to say the truth, which he was not going to do.

He didn't need to cast a _Hominum revelio_ in order to find her. He knew she would be leaning against an Oak tree right on that scarcely transited path from which she could get a clear view from the house.

"Hello, Tonks," he whispered as softly as possible.

"How do you manage to be so quiet?" she whispered back. "I couldn't even hear your footsteps!"

He just smiled although he knew she could not see him.

"_Muffliato_!" he heard her whisper, "Now that's better," she added in her normal voice.

"How did it go?" Remus asked. "Anything unusual?"

Tonks sighed heavily.

"Everything looks unusual to me. Those Muggles are mental! Especially the large fatty one, Harry's cousin. No… I take that back, he's no mental… he's just your average bully, only without magic. I swear if I see him kicking a smaller kid again, I'm hexing them 'till next year and he'll never know what hit him."

Remus chuckled. It was this sort of thing, that incredible amount of energy mixed with those phrases he would never expect her to say, he found most interesting about her.

"I don't think the Order would be terribly happy with you," he said.

"You never know… I wish I'd get closer though, I can't properly look at any of them from here. Darn Moody and his extra constantly vigilantly self…"

Suddenly Remus remembered he had brought her something.

"Care for some coffee?"

"Remus Lupin, you're a saviour," she said, and he could imagine the smile dancing on her lips.

"Any time," he said, pouring the dark liquid on one of the mugs under his cloak. "You'll have to stretch your hand a bit and I'll give you this. Unless you want your revenge to that boy to be just a couple of floating body-less hands that might, or might not, scare the days out of him."

Tonks chuckled and Remus felt his own mouth forming a smile. Making her laugh was other of those many things he anticipated about being with Tonks. He felt his cloak move and then he saw her hand inside it. Carefully, he placed the mug on the outstretched fingers, trying not to think about the feeling of her skin on his.

No, he was not to think about it at all, because one thing was to anticipate cleaver retorts and interesting conversations, maybe even a shared joke or two. This other thing was way out of what anybody would consider a safe path and he would do well to stay away from it.

"This is great," he heard her murmur. It took him a heartbeat longer to realise she was talking about the coffee.

"I thought you'd need some," he said, pouring himself another cup.

"I do. I have to get to work in no time. For once I wish there'd be tons of paperwork waiting for me so I can have an excuse for barricading inside my office and take a little nap."

"A nap, huh? What about that constant vigilance?"

Tonks chuckled again.

"I've got that covered, don't worry."

He raised his eyebrows, even though she could not see the gesture.

"So, if anybody were to try something while you're on your cubicle...?"

"Why do people need all the fingers in their hands anyway?" she said trying to sound nonchalant, but ruining the effect with a soft chuckle.

"Aha. I'll keep that in mind if I ever get the temptation of visiting you at work."

"You should give me fair warning, then," she prompted, and after a moment she added softly. "I'd like that, though, if you'd come visit some time."

Remus did not know what to say to that. Was she actually flirting with him or was it just a friendly comment? It was very odd to speak to somebody he could not see; her being quiet gave him the impression he was alone. He tried to strain his ears and listen to the tiny noises she might made while drinking her coffee, he could barely.

"Look, there he comes," Tonks suddenly said with a very aware ringing in her voice.

At that moment the front door of number 4 opened and a large man came out. Remus knew him very well from the many times he had been spying on him while keeping an eye on Harry.

"Look how he bounces, the prideful narcissistic prat," Tonks muttered through gritted teeth.

"Aren't you being a tad harsh?" Remus asked, "I'm not a fan of the man, but is he really that bad?"

Tonks sighed and now Remus could hear her taking a sip of coffee.

"You know those string-like things the twins have invented? Well, they actually work nicely, so I overheard him yesterday, talking about somebody at work. The way he talks you'd say he fancies himself the king of the planet or something. And later he was talking about Harry, and I'm almost sure the kid was on the room, mind you! I reckon I would've burst in anger if I were him!"

"What did he said?"

"You don't wanna know and I'd rather forget it than repeat it," there was indignation ringing in her every word.

"We had been warned he's not very nice."

"That's stretching the truth to the point of absurdity," Tonks said, and he could hear the smile on her voice again. "Given the chance, I don't' know who'd I jinx first, him or his good-for-nothing son."

"What about the mother?" Remus asked, trying to sound cheerful and realising he just wanted to keep on hearing her voice.

"That cow," Tonks buffed. "Everybody's wrong, she's always right… is it true that you met her before?"

Remus tried to figure out who on Earth she had known that.

"Yeah," he answered slowly. "Not really a proper meeting, but I saw her on Platform 9 and three-quarters more than once a long while ago. I went to school with her sister."

"I know."

Nobody spoke for a long moment. Remus wondered how much research had Tonks done to have found out he and Lily had been school mates. Maybe she had not made any at all, but had heard just gossips from Sirius.

A sudden thought made a now familiar unpleasant shiver run down his spine. Since the first Order meeting at Grimmauld place he had wondered who much did _she _know about him? Of course she knew he was a werewolf, did she not? Somebody must have told her. Every member of the Order must have had a briefing or something of the sort about everybody else, it was just logical. And yet, he had no idea about the new members, except for what they had told him on person. Nobody had briefed _him_ on Bill Weasley, for instance.

But surely an Auror must know about werewolves… but if that was the case, how was it possible for her to be this nonchalant about his condition?

He knew he should be him the one telling her, maybe just a side comment, trying to make it sound far less important than it was. Because being an Auror, Tonks knew exactly what a werewolf could or could not do, there would be no point in dismissing it. She had even given a small report on recent werewolves' activities during the last order meeting.

As a matter of fact, he had been really close to tell her, just some nights before that, when he had been walking her home. Back then, though, he had had the impression she just needed him to reassure her about what she would start to do. It had been certainly not the right moment to confront her with the reality of her having to work alongside a werewolf. And yet again, did she not know already?

As Tonks chatted a little more about his impressions on the Dursleys, Remus decided he would tell her, hoping that she already knew and thus, that she would only shrug and tell him that, honestly, how could he think she did not know. Not now, though. He needed at least to see her face; he needed a proper conversation with her.

"I have to go to work," she was saying now.

"That you have."

"It'd be great to stop at my flat for a sec and at least get some fresh clothes."

"I think you'll have enough time."

"You still there? Let me give you… here." He felt his cloak move again a little, and Tonks' hand was on view, carrying the empty mug.

He took it, this time being careful not to touch her skin. Remus thought what an odd feeling it was, wanting to do so and fighting so hard not to. But now there was an extra reason why he should be additionally careful around Tonks. He needed to be sure they were at least on the same page about his condition; that they both knew what they were doing.

"Thanks a heap for the coffee, Remus."

"You're welcome."

For a moment he did not hear a sound and thought she might already be gone.

"It's weird, isn't it?" her voice was audible again. "Having this conversation, drinking coffee together, and not being able to see each other. Not an unpleasant thing, but weird all the same."

Remus did not know what to say. He heard her move at his side and suddenly he felt her hand, somewhat clumsily, touching his forearm.

"See you later," she said

"Have a good day."

He felt her hand squeeze his arm softly and then it was gone. The softest sound told him she was walking away. For a moment, he tried to strain his ears and hear her Disapparate, but he could not.

* * *

**AN: This happens right before Tonks' chapter 47. Cheers!**


	46. I'm your mother after all!

_July 18__th__. _

"I know why you wouldn't want to tell me, I'm your mother after all!"

The smile stretched Amy Lupin's features with such softness it almost succeeded in hiding how sick she had been for the past months. Remus smiled back at her fondly and took her hand.

"I can tell there is something, Remus," she continued. "You look… happy."

He chuckled.

"Mum, you are not making much sense," he said softly. "Nothing had happened that could make me particularly happy. On the contrary, you've heard the rumours, right?"

For a moment, his mother's smile disappeared and a shadow of concern covered her eyes. Remus regretted at once having brought up the subject.

"You are taking care of yourself, are you?" she asked.

"Naturally."

Slowly, his mother grabbed the cup full of steaming tea in front of her and took a small sip. Remus saw how some of the liquid spilled because of the trembling of her hand.

"I wish I know why is it that you are so good for this sort of things," she said thoughtfully.

"What sort of things?" he asked distractedly. "Brewing tea?"

She chuckled.

"Remus Lupin, you're impossible."

He smiled at her, wishing he was able to keep her spirits this high for ever.

"I was talking about… about the war actually," her tone was grave again. "I don't know, and I'm sure you're not going to tell me, if this time is going to be as terrible as the first time was. How much would you be involved or what would they ask you to do. I'm scared about you-"

"Mum, you shouldn't worry with such matters-"

"I'm scared about you," she continued, raising her voice, "but I also know this somehow makes you… happy? No, that's not quite right. It's more as… purposeful? Well, you know you're good at it and you know you're needed. And that gives you something, like a special light."

Remus did not know if he should smile or not.

"I promise you I'll be careful."

"I certainly hope you will, son."

They drank their cups of tea in silence. Remus could not help but notice, every time he came over to his mother's house, how the disease was changing her. She had always been thin, but now he could see the bones showing under the skin of her hands and arms; her eyes seemed to be buried in shadows and, even though she constantly tried to hit it, he had realised some months ago that her hands were often shaky.

Only once he had suggested she should get somebody to take care of her. The energy with which his mother had refused the idea had been enough for him to drop the argument altogether. He knew she did not have much time left and she was aware of that. Having seen many people getting sick and passing away in all those years working at St. Mungo's Amy Lupin had a very clear idea of how and where she wanted to spend her days.

"Still," she said, taking Remus off his reverie. "I am curious."

"About what?"

"About what is exactly what you do… I mean, if you are allowed to tell me."

Remus thought about it for a long moment. There was no need to try and fool himself, his mother was dying. Would it be so wrong to tell them a little more about what he was doing? Was it so terrible to give her something to think about, something to pique her interest and give her a little strength.

"You must promise you won't tell anybody."

His mother beamed.

"Who am I supposed to tell?"

Remus smiled and took the empty cup out of his mother's shaky hands, to place it carefully on the table.

"Remember Sirius?"

Again the dark shadows crossed his mother's gaze.

"How could I forget?" she said with surprising strength in her voice. "I can't believe the Ministry hadn't caught him yet, they are prize morons."

Remus squeezed her hand softly.

"We all made a mistake there, all those years ago, remember? We thought he was responsible for James and Lily's deaths."

"You told me that yourself."

"It was a mistake," Remus said softly. "He's innocent."

His mother frowned a little.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. I am actually seeing a lot of him lately."

For a moment she looked shocked.

"Remus, really, is that wise? I'm not just talking about everybody thinking he's responsible for those deaths… what is they're right and he's guilty?"

"He's not, I'm sure. I can't tell you a lot about this, but somebody else was guilty. I heard his confession myself."

"And why hasn't anybody talked about this? What's the Ministry doing?"

Remus sighed.

"The real culprit escaped and he was the only proof we had on Sirius' innocence. That's why the Ministry's still believes he's guilty."

It was as if the blood on his veins froze every time he remembered Wormtail and what had happened that night back in the Shrieking Shack; the way he had confessed, his pathetic clinging onto Harry to ask for mercy, his succeeding… and finally, his escape. Sirius had made Remus promise not to blame himself on what had happened that night, nor to dwell on it any further. It was proven to be impossible.

"But what if they catch him?" his mother was saying. "I've heard on the wireless just a couple of nights ago they're still looking for him up and down the country. What if they find him and they find _you_ with him? Wouldn't that put you into a lot of trouble?"

Remus sighed, regretting having mentioned Sirius.

"They won't, Mum. He's very well hidden… and actually trying to help us with… well, with what's coming."

There was another long pause. Amy was not looking at his son but through the window to the yellowish garden.

"So now you've got your friend back," she finally said.

Remus smiled.

"I do… and it's not only having _him _back. It's the idea, you know? His being a traitor hurt almost as much as James and Lily's deaths."

She nodded.

"I know what you mean."

She looked out the window for a moment.

"I always liked him best from all your friends, you know? He was so cheeky, always praising my cooking and trying to talk me into giving him more to eat," she chuckled, her gaze lost in her memories. "And he made you happy, all of them did."

She closed her eyes and Remus thought she had fallen asleep. It was painful to see her so tired all the time and yet, he felt that these moments spent together, talking and sharing were just too precious.

"Would you tell me about that potion again?"

She had opened her eyes and was now looking at Remus with a bright light. For a long time Remus had refused to discuss about the Wolfsbane potion with his mother. Had it been invented some years before, he knew she could have brewed it for him. For the time he found out about its existence, Amy's abilities to do such thing were greatly diminished because of her disease. He knew she would have wanted to try and brew it, but he also knew the risks and with that, he was certain his mother would not forgive herself should something happen to him because of a badly concocted potion.

Now he knew she would not try anymore, she did not even have the strength to put a cauldron on the fire. Still, she loved to hear him talk about how his transformations were now.

"Somebody's making it for me. Somebody I'm working with. He's good at that… you'd be better though," he smiled, "that thing has the most horrible flavour invented by wizardkind. I am sure you would've come up with a way to make it taste better."

"Chocolate-flavoured Wolfsbane potion?" she asked, a mischievous light dancing in her eyes.

"That's not a bad idea. The person who's brewing it for me says there's not improving the flavour. I'm sure he's not even trying… coffee flavour wouldn't be that bad either."

His memories of the morning before were making him smile. He had never been much of a coffee drinker; now it seemed to be a great flavour, along with a good excuse to talk to-

Suddenly his mother was laughing softly, that special light not leaving her expression.

"Even after all these years, Remus, you cannot fool me. There is somebody special in your life now, isn't there?"

"What? No, mum, how could it ever-?"

She was looking at him, knowingly.

"It's a girl, huh? How is she Remus?"

He felt he was blushing as if he was a teenager and chuckled a little.

"It's just a friend, Mum. Somebody I'm working with. Much younger than me. But she is fun."

"Pretty?"

"Mum, what sort of question is that? I feel like being thirteen again!"

Amy Lupin was laughing out loud now and again, Remus wondered again if telling her a little more would not do her better.

"If you must know," he said, feigning exasperation he was not really feeling, "she is pretty. Which is absolutely irrelevant since she's much younger than me. Barely out of school."

"And yet, she's making you happy."

Remus rolled his eyes.

"A lot of things make me happy."

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes as well, mirroring his gesture, "we both know that's not true."

Remus shook his head, half amused, half surprised by the sharpness of her observation.

"You know, you could bring her home."

This time he just laughed. His imagination seemed to run wild and, for a brief, crazy moment, he actually pictured the scene of Tonks being here, drinking tea with his mother. How absurd that thought was! Her mother did not need to know that yet, though.

"I don't know… I'm not even supposed to be acquainted with her to begin with."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"Could I just give you a piece of motherly advice?"

"You always can, Mum."

"Don't think too much. You always do that and I realise that sometimes it's for better. Not this time, though, son. Why don't you just… let your feelings lead you-"

"What feelings?" Remus protested mechanically.

"That's not for me to say. But if there are any feelings at all… just… just follow them."

The light in her mother's eyes seemed to be extinguishing and Remus knew it had little to do with the topic of conversation and a lot with the fact that the disease was taking the best off her.

"I might bring her over, but not yet."

She just nodded, smiling, but Remus could see it was costing her a good deal. He helped her to stand up and lay down in her own bedroom.

"I'll come tomorrow, all right?"

She just nodded.

"Be safe, son."

He was already heading to the door when he heard her voice again.

"And send that girl my love, would you?"

Remus would have rolled his eyes, had the scene not been so sad. So he just nodded, forcing a smile on his face, and headed outside.

He needed a long walk to ease his thoughts.

* * *

"I knew it was just a matter of time till I'd find you again."

For a moment two strong memories mixed together in his mind. It was like going back in time; he was seventeen again, walking in this same forest, eager of his life to start, and about to learn one of the most awful truths. And then, he was back in the sewers again, for that not brief enough time he had tried this, just mere months ago. He could recall the reeking of the place almost as if he was there now… or was it just Fenrir Greyback's smell?

"How long has it been since the last time we've met here, Remus? Fifteen years? Twenty?"

"Eighteen," he answered mechanically, trying to hide the disgust Greyback's presence produced him.

"It's been a long time. Fortunate to meet you again here. I've try to look at you a couple of times since you left the pack. You know, Remus… few are foolish enough to try and leave. What were you thinking?"

Remus clenched his jaw but he did not say a thing.

"I've let you walk around, you know? I let you _try_. How's that worked out for you?" Greyback's voice was now a sneer. "People treating you all right? Respecting you? Are you ready to join us again?"

He ached to grab his wand and just stun the daylights out this man standing in front of him and yet, something was telling him there was no running away this time. He needed to listen.

"Why would I?"

Greyback laughed mirthlessly.

"Why wouldn't you? By now you've known the world, there's nothing out there for you. How long has it been since you left us? Three years, isn't it? You've tried to live amongst wizards, haven't you? You've tried for a job and you got sacked-"

"I quit," Remus prompted.

Greyback was laughing again.

"You belong with your kind. Always have. Now there might be something else though, just as that other time so many years ago. Things might get much better for us." He approached Remus and he had to make an effort not to show how much his stench disturbed him. "I could use you, and I know you could use us."

Remus stared at him without saying a word.

"You haven't realise it yet, probably, but things are about to change. Once again we'll have an opportunity…"

"To do what, exactly?" Remus could not keep his contempt off his voice.

Greyback's gesture was so quick he did not have time to defend himself. His claw-like hand was clutching his throat with such strength Remus could feel his feet almost leaving the ground.

"You don't get it, do you? You've never had!" He was so close he was actually spitting on Remus' face. He tried to reach for his wand, but every movement just made Greyback's fingernails cut deeper into his skin. "We need to overrule them! And the only way to do so is to turn them into us! We have to attack, to create, to place ourselves into his society. You know you'll never get a place amongst them! You'll never get a job or a woman of your own! You're an outcast and you'll always be one!"

Finally Remus could reach the wand in his inside pocket. Gasping for air he muttered a shield charm. It was not strong enough but at least Greyback let him go. He took a couple of steps back, stumbling a little.

"Get out," he said calmly, his wand pointing directly at Greyback. "Don't ever come looking for me."

The werewolf spat right at Remus' feet.

"You'll need me. And you'll come to me sooner or later. Let's see if I'd be willing to take you then."

He fished into a pocket of his trousers and, when the wand appeared, for a moment Remus feared he would want to duel him. Instead, Greyback turned mid-air and Disapparated.

Remus had to lean on the trunk of a tree for a moment. He needed a few deep breaths before trying to Disapparate back to number 12, Grimmauld Place.

* * *

**AN: Many many thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing! **

**Cheers!**


	47. He could hardly wait

_July 18__th__._

He could hardly wait to summon Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, asking them to meet at Grimmauld place. Not an entire minute had passed since he had Disapparated from the woods and a plan of sorts was forming into his head. However, he needed to discuss it first with them, and also with Sirius. He knew it was risky, but was it not also a one in a million opportunity?

"We had not had conclusive proof that the werewolves and Fenrir Greyback of them all actually joined the Death Eaters during the first war." Dumbledore was saying thoughtfully. "There were a fair amount of attacks back then, of course, but we never knew if they had been directed by Voldemort or his followers, or if they had just been isolated events, unrelated to the war."

"There were the Leroys," Sirius said. "They had a kid and he was bitten, but did they have anything to do with us, or the Ministry, or the Death Eaters at all?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Dumbledore answered.

Remus shook his head, he had just remembered something.

"The first time I met him, Fenrir Greyback, it was just at the beginning of the first war. I was very confused by then, and James and I went to the only person we thought could give me some answers. You, Mad-Eye."

He did not say a thing, but focused both eyes on Remus.

"Do you remember? You told me I was of especial interest for Greyback, because I could blend in with wizards. You also told me Greyback wanted to join the Death Eaters."

Moody grunted his assent.

"I might have told you that because yes, at some point we feared he might have wanted that. If he succeeded or not, was never proved. It's a thought, of course. He might have joined them then and now he knows something is cooking up, even if there's no open news to tell him that. He could be communicated with one of the remaining Death Eaters… for all we know, he might be even in speaking terms with Voldemort himself. And, if that's the case, he would want to build an army of his own! Something Voldemort would want to use for his advantage."

"All right, that's perfectly reasonable, but what does that have to do with you?" Sirius prompted.

Remus sighed and focused on the three men sitting around Grimmauld Place's kitchen table. For some inexplicable reason, he remembered Tonks; the last Order meeting she had occupied the chair Mad-Eye was now sitting on. He could not help but wonder what her opinions would be on the plan he was about to expose.

"As a werewolf, I can blend in with wizards. As a wizard, I could blend in with werewolves."

For a moment none of them spoke.

"You're out of your rocket!" Sirius finally yelled. "You've lost it mate! There's no way you'll… are you insane? Are you actually telling us you're planning on accepting that maniac offer and join them?"

Since he had met with Sirius again, after his escape from Azkaban, never before had he resembled a younger version of himself more than right now, hitting the table with his fist.

"You would be perfect for the job," Moody grunted, ignoring Sirius' protests.

"That's what I thought," Remus added. "It's not only joining them," he focused his gaze on Sirius'. "It's spying them. I could try to gain Greyback's trust, which I must admit, after what I just did will not be terribly easy, but I think I'll succeed. And then, I could be closer to the Death Eaters and I could get first hand information on them."

"Isn't that supposed to be Snape's task?" Sirius said.

"We could always use another spy," Moody replied.

"You are mental, the two of you." Sirius stood up and went directly to the pantry. A second later he was sitting back, a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. "I can't believe what I'm hearing! Remus, you've fought against this for your entire life! You've always wanted to go on, in despite of what happens to your every month. Wasn't that what you always wanted? To be normal?"

"This wouldn't make me any less-"

"Yes it would!"

"Sirius," Remus sighed, "I've already been part of that pack."

His friend's jaw dropped and he stared blankly at the other three; it looked as if he was searching for a confirmation.

"When?" he finally asked.

"About three years ago, when I came back to England. I didn't stay much." Remus tried to hide his shudder at the terrible memories of his living with the most terrible of all the packs he had met during his time travelling.

"But… but that's it, isn't it? You didn't stay! Because you're not like them! You do realise, don't you? What if they make you bit somebody? You've never done that! What if… Dumbledore, what do you think if this?"

The headmaster looked at the tips of his fingers for a moment.

"If Remus should or should not rejoin Fenrir Greyback's pack is not my decision to make. I would never task you with something of the sort unless you were absolutely willing to do it."

Sirius puffed loudly but Dumbledore ignored it.

"It isn't something you should decide right away though. Last time, when you joined them, you were doing it for your sake, and your sake alone. If you'd wanted to quit, just as you did, you knew there were nothing else at stake. If, on the other hand, you join them for any other cause, you would feel much obliged to stay even if it becomes too much for your own safety or tranquillity."

"That's exactly what I'm saying! You're too bloody noble!"

For a moment none of them spoke.

Why did it felt as if he was trying to convince them to let him go? It was almost as if he was a child again, asking for permission to do something he knew was dangerous. And then again, maybe he was not asking for permission, maybe-

"What if you forget who you really are?" Sirius said quietly.

It was as if he had hit him with something. _What am I, really? What am I supposed to be?_

He looked at Dumbledore and Mad-Eye; they were silent, each of them apparently lost in their own thoughts. Again he remembered Tonks and wished for her opinion again. How could she have one on this particular matter, anyway, if they had not even discussed his being a werewolf? And yet, if she knew, what would she said?

Remus finally looked at Sirius. There was no trace of his younger version anymore. He looked as tired and old as that first time he had seen him after Azkaban, in the Shrieking Shack. Was he, Remus, imagining things or was there really pleading in Sirius' eyes?

"You don't have to go right now," Mad-Eye said. "We don't know if they're actually joining the Death Eaters or if that scum was just lying because he wants you back."

"That could have been the reason."

"It would be foolish to lose a very capable, strong fighter just because we're under a very questionable suspicion. Besides," Moody now looked at him directly, "I don't think you'll be that great a spy. You're more of a fighter."

Remus did not know what to answer to that. Another feeling was washing over him and it took him a moment to realise it was relief. Indeed, he had not been asking for permission. He had been asking them to stop him!

"I agree with Alastor," Dumbledore said. "We don't have enough evidence that the werewolves are such a great risk right now, while we do know there are some other dangers we are going to face in a shorter notice. There is no need to risk you like this, not now."

"Not now, not ever," Sirius said. "Remus, if you want to rejoin Greyback, you'll have to pass over my dead body."

* * *

Nothing else was said on the matter and shortly after, members of the Order started to arrive. For the first time, Remus had almost forgotten about the meeting that evening.

His mind had been made about joining Greyback's pack. He would not do it, at least, not for now. Moody suggested talking the matter over later, if the werewolves' allegiances proved to be on the Death Eaters' side. Sirius had scoffed loudly; the conversation had ended abruptly with the arrival of Bill Weasley.

Mad Eye stood up and went to talk to him and Remus thought about Tonks again. At his side, the chair, _her_ chair, was empty now and he wished for it to stay like that. More than ever during Order meetings, he wished the rest of the members would avoid that particular spot in order for her to sit there.

He would tell her to-night. He would walk her home and tell her, that he was a werewolf, that he kept it under control, and that he had wanted for so long for her to know only there had never seemed to be a good time. And afterwards he would tell her his plan and listen to what she had to say. Would she take Mad-Eye's side and consider the matter from a tactical point of view? Would she be more like her cousin and try to stop him doing it? He would not admit it, but he wanted it to be the second option.

However, time was passing and there was no sign of her.

The meeting was about to begin when loud coughs and the opening of the kitchen door made his eyes dart forward. She looked tired and flustered; even at the dim light coming from the fireplace and the candles on the walls he could see she was blushing. She looked around and her eyes met his, briefly. This was hardly a first and yet, was there something different in her gaze?

There was a frown Remus had only seen directed to him once before. That time there had been a wand pointing at him too. Maybe she was just tired. Molly was asking her something in those lines and she shook her head, while looking at him again. Trying not to be much outspoken, he smiled and pointed at that chair next to him.

Her eyes had definitely something different and Remus was starting to figure out what that might be when she suddenly looked away and went to sit near Bill Weasley.

He expected she would have something to tell her, but that was not the case either. Her gaze was focused on the talking figure of Kingsley, with a mixture between seriousness and defiance. No, it was not his imagination. Something was wrong, something concerning not only her but… was it possible that it was something concerning him too? Was she really avoiding him?

Somebody started giving a report but he could not concentrate on it. He wished that she would look at him again, if only just for a second; he needed to figure out that gaze, he needed to know.

_What? Do you want to know why isn't she looking at you any more? Is this just the first time that something like this happens to you?_

_But not her, she couldn't-_

_Why couldn't she?_

Remus sighed as realisation washed over him. Of course he knew what this was about, how could he have been so naïve?

Tonks had finally found out what he was; somebody had told her or, maybe, she had just figured it out on her own. She was smart enough. And working in the very office that would give her access to investigate almost anybody. Had it been a coincidence? Had she been looking for him on purpose? That second idea made him uncomfortable but it did not matter anyway. Now, now it was not her being tired, it was her being disgusted. At him.

It felt as if something was freezing his insides. He had never felt this sort of emptiness. It was worse than Dementors, worse than having a wand pointing at his chest, worse than knowing that the full moon was approaching.

_But why? Why is it so important? So she knows. So she doesn't like it. There are plenty of people who don't like the fact that there are werewolves out there and that I'm one of them. Even Molly, at the beginning-_

_Not her though. I'd have never expected her to be one of those people._

Their eyes meet again for an instant and this time Remus could finally read what her expression was about. There was disgust all right, and contempt and he did not need to see any more of that.

Still, he waited during the entire meeting, trying hard and failing to grasp some of the meaning of what was being discussed. From time to time, he risked surreptitious looks at Tonks but she did not looked at him again.

Finally Emmeline ended her report and people started filing out. From where he was sitting, she saw her making a very funny arc to avoid Sirius, who looked at her puzzled, and even disappointed. Lately, Tonks had frequently stayed at Headquarters to keep him, to keep them company. Now even that was lost.

Just as well.

* * *

**AN: Tonks' Tale Ch 48**


	48. The fact that he had a job to do

_July 25__th__ 1995._

The fact that he had a job to do, that it was important not only for the Order but for maybe the entire wizarding population was something he did not need anybody to tell him. He knew it. There was no questioning the motives once a plan was established precisely because they knew what they had to do and there were plenty of members reviewing every step they were taking.

His was not even a dangerous work. He knew that Arthur or Kingsley or… the people working at the Ministry were at much more risk than him just by sitting at their offices every passing minute.

The though did not made it any easier to approach the house he had been looking for and knock on the door.

He just had to do it.

Normally Remus would not hesitate this much, he would not even consider the possibility of hesitation. Now, though, it was different.

There was always the chance that the people he called upon did not know about what he really was, so the only thing he had to do was tell them the bad news. It was not easy, not a little bit, but he just had to. Sometimes they would look at him sceptically, eyebrows rose, silently asking themselves if he, Remus, was raving mad. Other times they would not allow the question to form in their heads; people would simply scream at him to stop spreading rumours that would do nothing but create sheer panic, and to get the hell out of their house.

And then, there was this other possible scenario, of people actually knowing there was a werewolf standing at their doorstep. That would probably mean they would not even open the door for him.

His mood seemed to be set for this possibility. Remus did not want to admit, not even to himself, that Tonks' change of attitude had had an effect on the way he was feeling. He wouldn't admit it, he wouldn't even think about how horrible it had been for the past days and how angry and hurt he was with all that crap.

He needed to do what he needed to do, and his mood should be the least of his worries.

The Oddpick family had work in journalism; there was, in fact, a good chance they would have heard about what Remus was. At the same time, there was also the chance they would not be so scared about it.

Remus squared his shoulders and prepared to take off Moody's invisibility cloak. They needed to make contact with somebody inside the _Daily Prophet_, they had talked largely about it during the last meeting. He just needed to get there and try to talk to them.

A sudden move in front of him made him stand still, his hands moving very slowly to adjust the cloak over his body. A figure had just turned the corner and was walking towards the exact house he intended to visit. He did not recognise the squat man but, according to what he was wearing, Remus was almost sure he was a wizard.

There was nothing strange about it, Remus thought; the Oddpicks would most certainly have visitors. And yet he stood very still; something in the newcomer's demeanour gave him the impression he was not a regular visitor.

The squat man hesitated for a second and then knocked at the door with his fists. A moment later it opened and a mid-age woman came out, looking curious.

Remus could hear the voices but he could not make out the words so he risked taking slow quiet steps towards the house. A moment later though the woman had stepped aside and pointed at the insides of the house; both her and her visitor disappeared and the door was closed again.

This time Remus walked much faster, a moment later he was next to an open window, from where he could hear almost every word that was being said inside.

"I am sorry to bother you, Mrs. Oddpick, Mr. Oddpick," the visitor was saying, "but I might have a very interesting… business proposition for you."

"What sort of business?" Hugo Oddpick asked, his tone bored.

"Information. Not many people would admit it, but there is a business in information, of course."

"So, you would like to tell me something."

"Not me. I don't have the information. I am just… a link, you see." The unknown person's voice was silky and persuasive, Remus wondered if he would succeed in awakening Oddpick's interest. "He needs some guarantees he will remain anonymous."

"In order to do that, I must know what sort of information it is."

"I am afraid I cannot tell you that," the unknown said.

"Why are you wasting our time then?"

"Forgive me, Mr. Oddpick, I think I haven't express me right. What I can do is arrange a meeting between yourself and the source, you will be able to discuss the information he has to provide and I am sure you will find it not only very interesting but also worth publishing."

"Listen." Oddpick was not sounding bored anymore, he was annoyed. "I've got plenty of people coming over with stories they swear are worth publishing. At the end it turns out it's just codswallop worthy of the Quibbler. I am not wasting my time in meeting this mysterious source of you if I don't have at least some information on what this story is about."

For a moment nobody speak and for a moment. From where Remus was, he could see the visitor's back and Mr. Oddpick sitting on a couch, his expression set. His wife was nowhere to be seen.

"I cannot tell you any particulars, for I don't know them myself. What I do know is that this concerns somebody the Aurors are currently looking for."

Oddpick raised an eyebrow.

"And who is that person?"

"That I cannot tell you."

The squat man suddenly stood up.

"Well Mr. Oddpick, you don't have to come if you don't want you but, if you're at all interested," he produced a piece of parchment from an inside pocket, "you'll be in this direction next Saturday at noon. Good day to you."

And without further ado, he was crossing the front door and walking down the street. Remus had just the time to see Hugo Oddpick's flabbergasted expression at the sudden leave of his guest, before setting down the same street. He wanted to follow the unknown man. He could just be an informant just like the many Oddpick said he got, but there had been something in his demeanour, in his way of speaking, that made Remus uneasy.

He was just approaching the corner from which the man had come when a soft _crack_ told him he was too late. The stranger had Disapparated.

* * *

"… there was something about that visitor and I can't put my finger on what it is. So I decided not to knock on Oddpick, at least not for know; I'd rather know what that person was about before coming into that man's house with an offer of my own."

"It might be nothing," Mad-Eye said, looking thoughtfully at his flask before taking a sip.

"I hope it's nothing," Remus said. "Just a regular anybody wanting to get his minute of fame. But there was something, Mad-Eye."

"I believe you, and I believe in hunches too. So what d'you suggest?"

"I suggest sending somebody to follow Oddpick to that date next Saturday, and see what that was about. We have to find out, don't we?"

Moody did not say a thing for a while.

"There is something I can't quite understand though," Remus spoke again. "Something that might end with my theory of something fishy going on. If that person was indeed a Death Eater, why wouldn't he just announce that and order Oddpick what to do? Try to recruit him?

Moody scoffed.

"They wouldn't do that. Not now at least. That would be _admitting_ they are back and they don't want that to happen. They just want exactly the opposite of what we wanted; they want some reporter to feed the Prophet fake information that might unsettle the population or direct it some way or the other."

"And why didn't he tell what he knows right away? Why sending Oddpick out to meet with a source?"

"Maybe he doesn't know it? More likely, they want a prove of what Oddpick's willing to do. See if they can count on him for later."

Moody shook his head again.

"You're not going. We'll send Tonks in."

"Tonks?" Remus felt something uncomfortable in the pitch of his stomach but ignored it.

"She'll have to follow Oddpick, prevent him to go to the meeting, morph into him and take his place. That's the best way we have to know exactly what this is about."

Remus frowned. He could see that was indeed a good plan but, sending Tonks? He tried to put his own very recent personal feelings aside in order to evaluate the situation in a more accurate way.

"Isn't she too young? Is she ready for something like this?"

Moody chuckled.

"Never mind she's young. That one was born ready, she'll do fine."

Remus opened his mouth to say something but the old Auror went on.

"I've rarely seen that sort of guts and determination in anybody. She's a little bit like you only without over thinking it all that much. That's not always for the better."

"You really respect her, don't you?" Remus asked.

"I do, and you would be out of your rocket if you'd take her lightly."

"I wouldn't-"

"There was this time, she was in her second or third year of training. She was just doing some recollections, you know, going to where an incident had occurred and collecting some memories of it all for us Aurors to look it later on a pensive. I realised later I shouldn't have sent her alone but back then there were other concerns. Some more urgent matters to attend and almost the entire Auror's taskforce were on it. To make a long story short, she met one of the worst transformed werewolves I've ever seen and she had to fight him on her own, while protecting a boy from further harm."

Remus didn't know what to say. He could picture her, looking much smaller than her real self, faced with the enormous creature he turned into every month, trying to avoid getting bitten.

"When I saw her calling us, I didn't thought it was important, so I took my time to get there. I can't tell you how grateful I am that nothing serious happened in the meantime.

"What we found when we finally Apparated to the spot, was that trainee nobody was taking seriously, covered in snow, blood, mud, waving her wand so fast you couldn't see it, trying to keep that werewolf away from the boy."

Moody chuckled hoarsely and Remus looked at him, puzzled.

"I was just remembering… After that, she even had the guts and the energy to yell at _me._ For not believing she would call for a valid reason. For not coming to her aid right away. That girl had what it takes, she had always have. She'll do fine in that mission of yours."

Remus was only half listening. The image of the werewolf attacking Tonks had been replaced by that of an angry Moody being yelled by that small multicoloured-haired witch. It would be almost a comical sight except it was not.

"Who was the werewolf?" Remus heard himself asking. Did he really want to know?

"I don't remember anymore. I can look at it for you if you want me to."

"No, not really."

"It wasn't Greyback if that's what you're asking."

Remus just nodded. That uncomfortable feeling on his stomach was back, only this time for very different reasons.

So Tonks did have a reason to hate werewolves. But she must know now how different situations can be, mustn't she?

"You tell her, then," Moody spoke again, "about this new mission she has and all the particulars of it."

Remus was brought back form his own musings so suddenly it felt as waking up.

"I… I don't think that's a very good idea."

One thing was to knowing the reason or part of the reasons behind her recent attitude. Something entirely different was to force a conversation with her. He would not do it. With or without traumatic experiences in her past, she should know by know who he was. If she was trying to avoid him for whichever reason, he was not going to be the one chasing after her.

"I don't see her that often," Remus hastened to say before Moody would get suspicious. "She rarely comes to headquarters and I can't just get inside the Ministry, can I?"

That sounded as a good reason and yet Moody had both his eyes fixed on Remus'.

"You could get into her office and tell her," Remus added, feeling almost as a schoolboy caught trying to give a very lame excuse on why he had not done his homework.

"I'll do it," Moody finally said. "You have to fill me in every detail then. We cannot take risks in this one."

* * *

**AN: This happens during Tonks' Tale Ch 48; the incident remembered is from Tonks' Ch 24.**

**A lot of thanks to Tonks23 (thanks a lot for all the feedback and support! here it is!), login password, Louey06, Blue Luver5000, ThisLoveHasNoCeiling, tt crews, QueenCobraWing, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl (welcome back!), catwalkingowl, CharmChaser (welcome back you too!), Veronika Lupin and Srita-Kometa! And to all those fantastic readers out there!**

**Cheers!**


	49. It was no good to dwell in the past

Of course it was no good to dwell in the past. If he should have a motto emblazed on some sort of imaginary crest that would represent him, that would be it. It is no good to dwell in the past.

_Why, then, past seems to be so much better all the time?_

Remus was used to feel miserable but now… not it seemed it was getting much more intense than his usual baseline. What was left for him after all?

He looked down at the book opened on his lap, trying to distract his thought for what was quickly becoming a circling obsessive line of thought.

This new Order of the Phoenix was certainly much more organized and purposeful, but it lacked abysmally of something the last order had. He could not really put his finger on what it was, except of course his missing friends. Indeed that group had been a lot like a gathering of friends. Now…

Now there were a lot of nice, decent people, but the only real friend he could consider was Sirius. And, despite of the wild happiness, mixed with a lot of shame and regret, he had first had on learning he had not been innocent all the time, looking at him now hurt. It hurt to see how old and weary he was, which, he knew, was roughly a mirror of his own condition. Even more, looking at him without James at his side was more or less like looking at a person with a missing limb.

Did Sirius see himself this way? He did not show and Remus was not going to be stupid enough to ask.

And then… of course, there had been Tonks.

The thought of her made him want to scream in indignation, and fury, and pain, and shame.

He had thought… he had thought differently. He believed he had found _something _in her, a slight difference that singled her out of the entire group. And obviously she had seen something in him as well; at least, he thought that for a while. And now… who would have thought she would be the worse of them all about his being a werewolf? Not him, certainly. She seemed…

He had to suppress a loud sight.

'_It's a girl, huh? How is she Remus?'_

_He felt he was blushing as if he was a teenager and chuckled a little._

'_It's just a friend, Mum. Much younger than me. But she is fun.'_

She had looked so happy then. The happiest he had seen her in months. Maybe that had been Tonks purpose, to be imagined by his mother as the woman he would have. Because it did not matter now that she had believed, that she had hoped Tonks could have been a companion to him. Remus sighed, less than two weeks before, his mother had died, silently, calmly, just the way she had lived.

She was gone, with that hopeful smile, and maybe just because of that, the whole Tonks situation had not been just pointless and painful.

Remus looked at the page of the book again. He did not even remember what it was about.

He had to find a way to focus again. He had a job to do and musing on sad memories would not make it any easier.

The soft noises coming from the kitchen did not hide completely the sound of the front door opening. It seemed that, whoever it was, they were being delayed at the entrance; there was a long silence before he could hear hesitant steps walking down the corridor.

Trying to catch up with the last sentence that had made sense on his book, he ignored it. It could be anybody and there would not be any Order meeting today.

He could not remain that indifferent when he heard the steps go closer and abruptly stop at the doorframe of the library, right in front of him.

He knew who this was and it did not help to improve his mood.

Slowly, almost against his will, he raised his head and looked at Tonks in the eye. She looked back for what it seemed like a very long moment. He knew how this would end, and he did not want it to, so he was the first one looking away. Remus did not need to see her take away her gaze from him, disgusted, the way she had been doing lately.

"Hello Remus," she murmured, and he had to look back again.

Of course she was being polite. One thing was to ignore him in a room full of people. Something entirely different would be to do so when they were alone.

"Tonks," he said, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

He looked down at his book again and tried to catch up with the first sentence on top of the page.

_Why is she standing there, staring?_

He could almost feel the weight of her gaze.

"Do you need something from me?" he finally asked, not being able to stand the silence any longer.

If she was planning to insult him or something of the sort, it would be better for both of them to get done with it quickly.

"Not really," she said, giving a couple of steps inside and looking around the room as if she was looking for something specific.

That was it. She was too afraid to properly look if he was there.

Remus did not need to bear this, and he would not force his being there on her either.

Still holding the book on his hand, he stood up and headed to the door, even if that meant he would have to pass next to her.

_Well, she would have to endure it,_ he thought angrily, walking quickly.

"No," her voice made him freeze on the spot when he was just about to reach the door.

"Pardon me?" he said, turning around to face her.

"Don't… don't go," she said quickly. "I mean, you don't have to… to leave on my account… I don't want to… disturb you… don't leave because of me."

She had blushed deep red, but apparently she had not notice it, or she would have morphed the colour away, he was sure of that.

A thought; a scary, irritating, fantastic thought made its way inside his brain.

_Is she no longer scared of me? Did she realise… what? That I'm not that hairy? That I'm harmless? That she was being unfair to me all this time?_

He looked at her and understood she was waiting him to do something. Without another word, Remus went back to his seat and opened the book again, failing, as he had done for the past hour, to understand the small letters on the page.

Remus could hear her moving, taking a sit and opening a book. He did not dare to look up, but he did not know why. Maybe he did not want to scare her away. Maybe he just did not care. Well, that one was a complete lie, but he could pretend he was all right with it. Tonks seemed to be oblivious to his thoughts, flipping through the pages of her book.

"So, uhm… you all right?" she said so suddenly he almost dropped his book.

He very much hoped his gesture did not go noticed. Perhaps she had just found out about his mother and was now trying to... what? Give her condolences? He did not need her to do that. He did not want her to. And yet, she _was_ talking to him.

"Quite," he answered trying to sound nonchalant and feeling he was failing miserably, "you?"

"Yeah! Lots to do, you know."

There it was. It had been just a fortnight, but he now realised how much he had missed her voice. Not the cold general greeting she used when entering an Order meeting, but this particular voice, both careless and intense, her 'personal' voice. Now, after spending that time without hearing it, he realised he had needed to.

"Of course," he said, trying to hide all these emotions from his voice.

He finally risked looking at her. She was sitting on the armchair next to him, with a large tome on her hands, and her eyes fixed on the page. Too fixed. For somebody who had been pretending to read for the past hour, the mistake was clear.

_When you want somebody else think you're concentrating in a book, Tonks, you should at least move your eyes around the page and not just stare at one spot._

Why was she pretending to read any way?

Remus looked at the golden letters on the cover and almost chuckled out loud. Was she really…?

_She is here to talk to me, but she doesn't know how! That's a stupid idea, Remus, she's just here… just because. But then… what if she really wants to fix things up? After being that disdainful?_

"I'd never guessed you would be interested in House Elf genealogy," his inner mischievous self, that mere minutes ago seemed to be gone for good, was now back, speaking before he could even make up his mind if it was a bad move or not.

"I… uhm… what?" she said, looking at him.

Despite of it all, he could not help but enjoy the moment. Tonks, embarrassing herself, in their present circumstance, was some sort of small, funny revenge. Taking his time, he pointed at the golden letters on the cover of her book and read aloud.

"_Servitude and blood. Loyal House Elf breeds in history._"

He enjoyed seeing her blush again, even though he fought as hard as he could to keep his expression as indifferent as possible.

"Well… yes, I… have many interests," she stuttered, flipping through the pages of the book with a would-be serious expression.

_That's adorable,_ he thought not being able to help himself.

"I see."

For a moment they looked at each other and Remus could see… she was indeed not disgusted any more. In her large dark eyes there was no trace of the contempt he had seen the last few days, nor the anger or the disappointment. She looked just… hopeful and friendly, the way she always had, and maybe even embarrassed.

"Yeah," she said with that affable voice of hers again, "always ready, constant vigilance, expect the unexpected, that sort of things."

"I see," he repeated, fighting hard a sudden urge to laugh out loud, to get up and hug her, to just close his good for nothing book and hers as well, and look at her in the eyes, and catch up with all the lost conversations of the past weeks.

_Why should I be that forgiving, though?_ The idea suddenly crossed his mind. _I've had a rough time because of her and now, all of a sudden, she waltzes in, trying to say a few lines and make it all the way it was? It doesn't work that way, Tonks._

"Where is Sirius?" she suddenly asked.

That sounded like a good idea, to go and grab Sirius and get out of this situation. The fact that he was enjoying Tonks' presence again was getting dangerous.

"Upstairs, I suppose," he said, not sure if he wanted Sirius to be here or not. "Do you want me to call for him?"

_Maybe it would be better if I just get out of here_.

"No, no," she blurted. "I was just wondering… despite of the kids being around, it all seems so quiet."

_Quiet? You have no idea, Tonks, how quiet had it been. Or maybe you have. It is not nice to be on that side, you know?_

"It has been really quiet around here lately," Remus could not hide the reproach in his voice, but he did not care either.

She should know, she should realise it had not been easy and it would not be easy either to get back on track. Not when she had hurt him so deeply.

She looked at him; she was frowning slightly, and there was pain in her eyes.

_Nobody should put that sort of expression on her_.

"I know," she muttered, her gaze fixed on his.

It seemed as if she was about to say something else, but she did not. He was feeling uncomfortable under her stare, something that had not happened to him with anybody in the longest of times.

He looked at his book again.

"Sometimes…" she said hoarsely, and he looked up again. She looked terribly solemn. "Sometimes a bit of quiet is needed… in order to clear things up. Thoughts, ideas…"

_Is she apologising?_

He continued looking at her, was there something else?

"I am not usually quiet, and I know that can be a mistake. But… but sometimes being quiet is the biggest mistake of them all."

Both stared at one another for what seemed to be a very long moment.

"I'm sorry," she muttered so softly that, had he not be looking at her lips at that precise moment, he might have missed it.

And what should he do?

Both anger and happiness were fighting their way inside him.

Again, he wanted both to slap her and to hug her. He wanted to tell her everything was all right and she needed not to worry. But he also wanted her to know how difficult it had been, how badly she had hurt him. It had been a long while since the last time he had felt all those emotions at once.

All he wanted, in fact, was to kiss her.

"Oi!" Sirius' voice came from the threshold. "Glad you two are here. Emergency meeting, now!"

* * *

**[Tonks' Ch 51]**


	50. It took Remus a moment to understand

It took Remus a moment to understand what Sirius ha just said. Tonks jump to her feet and quickly exited the room; he followed her, while his brain tried to catch up.

Had his words actually been "emergency meeting"? That could only mean one thing. As a matter of fact, that could mean a number of things but only involving one scenario. Something out of the ordinary had happened, something more serious than their missions, something serious enough to call for the first emergency meeting since the Order had reformed.

And to interrupt his talking to Tonks too.

Mad-Eye and Kingsley had been summoned as well; this only confirmed Remus' suspicions about the magnitude of the situation. If he had harboured the idea that this has only been something concerning Sirius and his bad mood of having to stay indoors, it all disappeared when looking at the expression on Moody's face.

On entering the kitchen, his eyes looked for Sirius'; he was now standing next to Arthur Weasley, both busying over an owl. With two long strides Remus was at their side.

"What-?" he started.

"Harry," Sirius muttered. "He's fine, for the time being, but we're getting him out."

Remus looked at Moody for some sort of reassurance but the Auror looked as clueless as he felt.

Wearing her night gown, Molly was trying to serve tea while ushering the kids to finish their dinner and vacate the kitchen. It all seemed somewhat disconnected, almost as if many scenes had decided to take place simultaneously on the very same dusty kitchen. His mind kept wanting to go back to the room he and Tonks had just vacated, to replay each and every word said, to make sure they had meant what he hoped they had; meanwhile the most natural and domestic scene of kids having supper was developing; and then this other gathering of people looking deathly solemn and filling the air with anguish and anticipation.

Sirius was too focused on talking to Arthur, he would not answer his questions just yet, so Remus sat on one of the empty sits at the wooden table. A moment later, Tonks was sitting at his side.

His brain, which a second ago seemed to be working sluggishly to try and process everything happening in front of his eyes, was now catching up in a hurry, focusing on the fact that, after what seemed to be a very long time, Tonks was sitting at his side again. He wanted to face her and say something, maybe even speak one of the thousand questions bouncing against his skull, but before he could gather his ideas, the door of the kitchen opened and Dumbledore came in.

Few times had Remus seen the headmaster look so menacing. If sometimes his quiet demeanour and the fact that he was indeed very old might have given anybody the impression he was frail, it all was erased with just looking at the way his piercing blue eyes were now burning into the surroundings.

"I will have to ask you to leave," Dumbledore addressed Hermione and the young Weasleys. If they had tried to linger when Molly Weasley had asked the same, now they did not. Quickly leaving their dirty plates on the counter, they exited the kitchen, exchanging scared and curious glances.

"Well, the matter has been taking care of, for now." Dumbledore said as soon as the kids left the room. It was not only the way he looked; there was also a ringing in his voice Remus had rarely heard. He seemed to be beyond fury.

"What happened?" Moody asked before Remus could say the same words.

"Harry Potter has been attacked by Dementors," the headmaster said.

"What?" Remus blurted and he could hear somebody else asking the same question. Automatically he looked at Sirius. _Did you know about this?_ He seemed to have understood his silent question and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Is he alright?" he asked again.

"He's fine," Sirius prompted, looking at Remus' expression. Now he was talking to him. "He managed to conjure a Patronus and drew the Dementors away."

Amongst everything else, this was a very funny feeling. Remus knew he had not been a bad teacher, and yet only once he had faced the fact that some of what he had taught his students at Hogwarts could actually save somebody's life or soul. But back then he had had other worries in his mind, the most pressing of them had been guilt about that night when Peter Pettigrew escaped, more than a year ago. Now, he was amazed to realise he was feeling some sort of pride. Sirius was still looking at him appreciatively, Remus had told him not long ago how Harry had been stubborn about wanting to learn the Patronus charm and how that attitude had remain him of James and had finally convinced him to try to teach him such a complicated spell.

Tonks' voice drew him back to the present, she was arguing with that characteristic energy of hers.

"… wasn't someone of the Order on guard duty there? Weren't we doing all our best to prevent something like this happening?"

Of course somebody of the Order must have been at Private Drive. They all had been tasked with guard duty both at the Ministry and at the house of Harry's relatives. Tonks knew that first hand.

"Was Mundungus' turn, right?" Moody grunted, and both his eyes were looking fixedly at Dumbledore. "That excuse of a wizard left his post!"

"He did."

Molly started screaming out her rage, it was very understandable, but there were much pressing matters. Suddenly something occurred to Remus, this was not only bout Harry almost getting caught by Dementors and being safe now. The consequences of what might happen were bound to reach much farther.

"I assume the Ministry knows what happened," he said, voicing his fears.

"Course they do. Potter's underage, isn't he? He's still got the trace on him!" Moody's rage was a match to Dumbledore's even if he was much used to it.

"The Ministry knows about him performing magic and in front of a Muggle," Dumbledore explained. Remus wanted to grown aloud. Of course, to make matters even worse, there had to be a witness. "His cousin was with him when the Dementors appeared. Firstly they wanted to take away Harry's wand and expel him from Hogwarts. However, I've managed to hastily convince Mafalda Hopkirk to cancel that order and Harry will have to attend a disciplinary hearing on August the 12th instead."

Remus did not know if he ought to feel relieved or not. He had had to attend his share of hearings and he had learned it was just a very open word to describe many situations, some of them quite unpleasant. He looked around to see if somebody else was sharing his fears but they were just explaining the details of how Harry's defence should be directed. He had the suspicion, though, that Harry's troubles had just begun.

Suddenly, he remembered what Tonks had been saying just a moment ago.

"Tonks had a point, though," he looked at her, almost expecting her to look away. She did not, so he continued. "It is impossible that two Dementors just happened to be in Little Whinging and furthermore crossed Harry's path."

"Oh, I am quite sure that is no coincidence. They were sent."

Of course. Remus could picture the scene: maybe the Death Eaters had gained control of some of the Dementors if not all, or, why not, maybe somebody from inside the Ministry. If they were ordering the _Daily Prophet_ to publish rubbish on Harry every other day, what could keep them from ordering Dementors to his house? He could imagine the headlines on the paper the next day, something along the lines of "deranged teenager" or "attention seeker" to say the least.

Sirius' voice took him out of his reverie again.

"What about Harry? We have to take him out of Little Whinging. It isn't safe anymore."

Remus could not help but agree; he looked at Dumbledore to search for a confirmation, but he looked thoughtful.

"I agree," Kingsley said. "I know we wanted to keep him from getting into Headquarters as long as possible, but tonight events just prove it is more difficult than we thought to keep an eye on him while he's at his relatives'."

"Yes…" Dumbledore was speaking slowly, almost as if he was trying to gain some time before making any decision. "I wish there was another solution, though. We are all aware of the risks it poses to us to have him right in the middle of the Order."

Remus had some ideas of why would the headmaster want to keep Harry away from headquarters and he could appreciate how difficult the decision could be for him, but this time he agreed with both Molly and Sirius. The kid might be in danger; they needed to take him to safety as soon as possible. Now the question of how was a very valid one.

"Is the Knight Bus traceable?" Molly suggested.

"Not exactly, but we cannot trust on the driver's discretion," Arthur answered and Remus agreed with all his heart.

"Brooms," Tonks whispered at his side, looking at the table; it was almost as if she was talking to herself. It did not sound as a terrible idea though.

"Brooms?" Remus asked, trying to encourage her with his gaze to explain her idea.

"Yeah," she looked up at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks slightly pink; Remus had really missed having her looking at him like that. "You can't trace a broomstick and you don't need to perform magic for it to work."

"Right you are, lass," Moody said, beaming at her. "We'll flight Potter out of there. I take he's a good flyer?"

"As good as James was," Remus said, remembering the last time he had seen Harry during a Quidditch match. He was indeed his father's son.

Tonks seemed to be on a roll now; she was suggesting luring Harry's relatives out of the house while Moody, being his usual paranoid self, was talking about recruiting some sort of guard to keep an eye on Harry while flying him to number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"I'll go," Tonks volunteered.

"Me too," Remus said, less than a second later.

"I'll join too," Sirius grunted from his corner.

It was just predictable, and so was Dumbledore's answer.

"That, is out of discussion."

Sirius did not press the matter but Remus could see the murderous expression in his eyes, now fixed on Dumbledore's. He could understand Sirius, of course, but couldn't Sirius understand everything else? Maybe after so many years in Azkaban and then, so many months in the run, his endurance was about to break.

He needed to talk to him again, he needed to remain him why where they all doing this. Sirius needed to think about Harry, and maybe even about James, before doing something foolish.

The meeting was over, but Sirius would not let the matter rest. He approached Dumbledore and Remus hastily stood up to join them. If he had to hex Sirius in order to prevent him to say something he could regret later, he would.

"Listen, Dumbledore, you need as much help as you'll get."

"I agree, but not all the help can be use in the same way," Dumbledore's voice was not furious anymore; he seemed to be tired and Remus could not blame it.

"I'm the kid's godfather!" Sirius whispered furiously. "And what have I done for him so far?"

"You've stayed out of trouble; you've stayed out of prison."

"He needs me!"

"He needs you alive and free."

"Free is not happening right now," Sirius sneered.

"Would you prefer a cell in Azkaban?" Remus said quietly.

Dumbledore just nodded.

Sirius raised his hands in exasperation and turned around to speak with Arthur.

"Good evening, Remus," Dumbledore said, and he was sounding weary again.

"Good evening,"

Moody and Kingsley were leaving and the headmaster followed. Remus wondered if Tonks would go with them or stay, as she had done sometimes before. Her saying "Good night" made him realised he had actually hoped for her to stay and he was disappointed.

How odd it was, after all said that night and the implications of Harry's attack, that his mind would still want to focus on her, on what she had said and what that could mean. He could not help but consider it, though. Maybe it would take her, them, sometime to get back on track. Still, he looked straight into her eyes and smiled. She smiled back.

* * *

**AN: I'm not absolutely happy with this chapter, but things have to move on *sigh*. Thank you very much for reading, reviewing and fav'ing this tale!**


	51. Stay over at number 12 Grimmauld Place

Remus did not like much to stay over at number 12 Grimmauld Place. Of course, he had slept in far worse places before, damp dark enclosures, reeking of bodies that had not showered in a while and rotten meat. What made headquarters uncomfortable had nothing to do with physical reasons. The four poster bed he was occupying was in fact very comfortable and so were the thin sheets around him. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had always chosen carefully what sort of tissues they should wrap their bodies on.

And yet, they had never worried much about the atmosphere or maybe it was just the way they liked it. It was heavy and gloomy, and the more recent misery of one of the inhabitants seemed to be even more powerful that the cheerful voices of the kids now living there as well.

Remus turned in his bed again, unable to fall asleep. After one very long and weary discussion, Sirius had decided to shut himself in his mother's bedroom, accompanied by Buckbeak and a couple of bottles of Firewhiskey. Remus had the uncomfortable feeling he ought to have stop him but then again, Sirius was being forbidden to do so many things, what good would it come from forbidding yet another one?

He needed to get out of the house, there was no doubt. But how?

He could not be part of the groups going to fetch Harry, nor could he be on hold for the emergency group Moody had insisted on having. No, for this particular mission Sirius just had to stay put.

But what if, any other day or night, he morphed and carefully under Remus' supervision, they Apparate somewhere remote in order to allow Sirius to at least stretch his legs?

Somehow it didn't sound as a terribly bad idea.

_It will have to do_, Remus thought, climbing off his bead and grabbing his dressing gown.

Very carefully not to wake anything or anybody up, he climbed up the stairs. He could hear some soft giggles coming from the twin's bedroom and he could not help but smile. Some weeks ago, right before… well, some weeks ago anyway, Tonks had given him one of those flesh-like strings she had gotten from Fred and George. He thought they were calling them Expandable Ears or something like that; those were a very cleaver, useful invention.

He had finally reached the door of what once had been the bedroom of Sirius' mother. There were no sounds coming from it. Taking a deep breath, Remus turned the handle and entered. Buckbeak was lying on the bed, ferreting through some dead rats lying right in front of him. He looked straight at Remus with his golden eyes and Remus bowed. His sight was being drawn to the other occupant of the room. Sirius was standing very still facing the open window, his back to the door. Remus could not tell if he had heard him entering or not. His hands were clasped at his back but one of them was still holding an almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

Sirius said something he could not catch so he walked in his direction until standing just a few meters from him.

"Come again?"

"I'm going away, mate," Sirius repeated, without moving.

Remus wanted to grown aloud but decided this was not the time.

"I'll wait until Harry and the kids are back in school and then I'll be off. I'll do some research on my own and I'll keep you posted. If, by any chance, something happens to me, I want you to let them all know… to let Harry know, it was just the way I wanted it to be."

"Sirius, mate, you're-"

"I'm not alive in here," Sirius finally turned around. Despite of the Firewhiskey he had drunk, his gaze looked clear and it focused on Remus'. "I better be off dead. Honestly. I am almost as dead as I was when I was… there."

"Azkaban?"

Sirius just shrugged.

"What about Harry?" Remus asked.

"What about him?" Sirius faced the window again.

"What will happen to him if something happens to you?"

"I don't thing something's gonna happen to me, mate. But if that's the case, I'll trust you to keep an eye on him."

Remus sighed. Of course he would do it, but that wouldn't be what Harry would have wanted.

"What good I am to the kid anyway, being stuck in here? Feeling as useless as any of the house-elves' heads on the wall? What sort of image will he have of me? This useless drunk, depressed person, unable to do something to get away from his situation…"

With a sudden move, Sirius' arm traced a wide arch and an instant later the bottle was flying out the window.

Almost automatically, Remus pointed his wand at the flying object and vanished it.

"Why d'you do that for?" Sirius asked.

"Don't want to hit anybody," Remus said matter-of-factly.

Sirius looked at him for a long moment; suddenly he started sniggering and, without being sure why, Remus was laughing as well. Soon both of them were laughing out loud, releasing what seemed like ages of bottle up energy. Buckbeak looked at them from the bed and Remus could have sworn there was something disapproving in his eyes.

"Moony, you're the best," Sirius said, clapping his back rather harshly between peals of laughter. "Being worried about everybody and everything! _Hit anybody_!"

It took them a long moment to stop. Sirius sat on the floor, his back resting on the wall, and Remus followed his example.

"I'll take you out," Remus said, still panting from their outburst of laughter.

"Yeah, right," Sirius said.

"Yeah, right," Remus repeated, in a completely different tone.

"Dumbledore doesn't want to hear about it."

"Dumbledore wouldn't have to necessarily know."

It was as being back in school, only somehow over the years the roles seemed to have changed.

Sirius was now beaming at him.

"Honestly?"

The more Remus thought about it, the more convinced he actually was. Sirius wouldn't exactly go on missions, but he'll think of something in order to make him feel useful; at least a little. That might prevent further damages.

"I'll talk to Moody."

Sirius grunted.

"Moody'll tell you this is out of the question."

"I don't think he will, not the way I'm planning to tell him about this. Mad-Eye knows how it is like to be out there and he knows about keeping the moral of his people up."

"But why talking to Mad-Eye. Couldn't we just… get out?"

"Yeah, we could," Remus nodded slowly, "but I rather have a lookout. I've seen the way he looks at Dumbledore whenever the issue of you staying here is discussed. He'll support him, of course, but honestly, I don't think he's that convinced anymore."

Sirius nodded, lost in his own thoughts.

"Besides," Remus added, "he might come up with something useful for you to do, something other than going to the park."

"Yeah, that'll be something."

Sirius apparently wanted to add something, but he closed his mouth.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

"Nothing," he shook his head. "I was thinking about… it was a bad idea anyway."

"Tell me."

Sirius shook his head again.

Both stayed silent for a while. Buckbeak had finished the dead rats and was nor sleeping, his head between his front claws.

"What d'you think about Tonks?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"Why?" Remus asked a bit too quickly.

"Never mind."

Remus wondered if he should ask again why on earth Sirius should ask his opinion about his own cousin. Had it been evident something was going on between them? Was it, really? They had been just colleagues, hadn't they?

"She's all right, isn't she?" Remus finally said.

"Don't let it get into you, mate."

"Get what into me?"

"The way she's been treating you lately. Don't think I haven't noticed." Sirius was looking solemn. "I think she's an arse but you might want to consider the sort of family she comes from. It was difficult for Andromeda, you know, her mum, to give it all up. It's even more difficult having to grow up here and then decide to fight everything they try to teach you."

Remus did not want him to see how close was he from some truths he did not want to admit even to himself.

"Sirius, mate, what are you baking about?"

Sirius looked at him, it was plain he was trying to search for the best way to say something.

"I might be spending way too large amounts of time in here, musing about my own rotten situation, but that doesn't mean I don't know what's going on."

"Your point being…?" Remus raised his eyebrows.

"My point being, she will stop behaving like an idiot soon enough."

Remus would have liked to be able to keep pretending he did not understand what Sirius was talking about; it seemed impossible now, he could not help but show some curiosity at least. What had Sirius noticed exactly?

"She's…" he started without being sure of what else to say. "I think she's stop behaving like… well, I wouldn't say idiot, it's just natural, isn't it? I'm a werewolf!"

"I'm not going to answer to that 'it's natural' crap," Sirius grunted. "You like her, don't you?"

"She's a good asset for the Order," Remus replied automatically.

"Of course she is," Sirius' leaned his head on the wall. "She's very pretty too."

"Yes, she is, and that's absolutely irrelevant."

"But of course. Why would you care anyway, right?"

Remus looked at him, Sirius' smile made him look so much younger and almost careless. Any depart from the gloominess was something good for Sirius but, honestly, Remus was not so sure he wanted to use this so very strange thing between Tonks and he... or if there was a thing to begin with. Besides, with Sirius being this hopeful, he couldn't help but remember other person smiling at the thought of Tonks and him, but thinking about her mother was still too painful, so he tried to focus on the present.

"I wouldn't," Remus said, standing up. Suddenly he felt like going back to bed. "And you shouldn't. That matchmaker thing you're trying to do makes you look an awful lot like Molly Weasley."

"Don't you dare...," Sirius said, standing up as well.

"Don't you dare either."

"You like her any ways."

"Molly, yes, her cooking is superb."

"You arse, I'm talking about that crazy cousin of mine. You like her and now you're just waiting for her to stop behaving like an idiot to… I don't know, whatever you're supposed to do with a lady you fancy."

"What makes you think-?"

"Oh, come off it! It is painfully obvious, you know. Or at least, it was, until she started acting all stupid, but trust me, she'll come 'round."

Remus rolled his eyes

"Good night, Sirius."

He was half outside the room when some idea occurred to him.

"If I might add… I think… well, she's not behaving like an idiot any more."

"That's great, because I'm convinced she could do you some good."

* * *

"I'm not talking about his coming with us tonight, Mad-Eye. Making him go head first to what might be a death eater's trap is just beyond reckless. What I'm saying is that there might be something he could do, surveillance or gathering of information, and not even in his dog form. He can do what we do, Disillusionment charms or Invisibility cloaks and he would be ready to, at least, do something."

Mad-Eye was scratching his chin, lost in thoughts. Although Remus was impatient to get a reply to give to Sirius, if possible before they would go to fetch Harry, he knew he just had to wait. There would be no hurrying Mad-Eye's reasoning.

"We're talking about two different things here," the Auror finally said. "One is letting him out from time to time so he won't lose his rocket in this wretched house. The other is sending him off to missions."

Out of the room, Remus heard the door open and somebody slowly walking in the direction of the kitchen. It was probably one of the members of the Guard; they will need to end the discussion soon.

"Knowing Sirius, I can see why he needs to help, but he has to see the bigger picture, both of you have. We're not talking about him getting killed, that wouldn't be that bad. We're talking about somebody torturing our whereabouts or what we're up to out of him. And that's something we can't risk."

Remus tried to ignore the casual tone in which the Auror was discussing a possible death inside the Order, not to mention they were talking about his friend.

"Still," Moody continued, "I don't agree with Dumbledore either. Sirius in here is not helping anybody, not even himself."

"That's what I'm trying to say," Remus prompted. He remembered what Sirius had said the night before, "in here he's not alive, he only breathes."

"How could we get him outside?"

"I was thinking of just Apparate with him morphed somewhere remote, at least to make him breathe another sort of air."

"This house's enough to drive anybody crazy, that's for sure."

Moody grunted again and stood up with some difficult. Grabbing his broomstick that had been lying next to his chair, he walked out.

"Let's go, the rest of the members of the guard will be here any moment."

Remus grabbed his own broom and followed him to the hall; Sirius was just climbing down the stairs. He did not say a word, even though Remus could swear he knew what they were talking, but nodded at them and continued and climbed down the stairs towards the kitchen. He wondered if the depressed look in his face was real or mere an act to reinforce Remus' words.

"I'll tell you something. You do that Apparating with him far away," Moody said the moment the kitchen door closed behind Sirius. "Make sure he transforms and take him somewhere he can walk."

Remus smiled.

"Thanks, Mad-Eye."

"Don't thank me. Just make sure nobody knows about this, all right? And I'm not just talking about Dumbledore, although he's the least one I'd like to know about it, I'm talking about the Weasleys and every other person coming in here. You say you'll be out and he'll be upstairs, whatever you need, just nobody has to know."

Remus nodded. He wasn't terribly eager to share this with anybody anyway.

"I can see why you're worried," Moody spoke again. "I'm worried too; it's as if his life had been on hold while he was in prison and now. I don't know if he realises he's not that young any more."

"I don't know either but I want to believe seeing Harry might help a bit."

The door of the kitchen opened and Tonks came out, her broomstick on her shoulder.

"You're late," Mad-Eye barked, without even looking at her.

"I'm not," she prompted.

Remus could not help but smile at her.

"So if necessary we'll deviate from the set course," Moody spoke without missing a heartbeat. Remus could not help but admire the casual way in which he was hiding his previous conversation.

The important thing now was that Sirius would be allowed to leave headquarters. And meanwhile, he had to focus on the mission in front of them and on the fact that he was on charge.

* * *

**AN: This Tale has just turned 1 year old! Thank you very very very much to all of you, sticking around, reviewing, fav'ing and subscribing to it!**

**Cheers!**


	52. A slight layer of dust on the furniture

It had been several nights since he had last been at his flat, his latest missions had forced him to be away or to crash at number 12, Grimmauld Place. At his own place now, there even was a slight layer of dust on the furniture to greet him after his absence. For once, though, Remus was too tired to clean it all. He just needed to go to bed and get some rest.

The mission had gone well, just as they had planned it; well from a descriptive point of view. However, he had the feeling there had been a couple of moments in which he had not know how to handle the situation, and none of them had had a thing to do with Death Eater's threats.

He had had barely time, while the members of the guard were arriving, to go to the kitchen. Full moon was three days ahead and, even if he was going to be in charge of the fetching of Harry Potter off his relatives' house, there were other pressing matters he needed to attend to.

Only Sirius was in the kitchen, perusing the _Daily Prophet_ with a frown.

"That slime-ball sent your thing with a house-elf just a second ago. It barely missed Tonks," he announced, pointing at a goblet standing on the counter. It was smoking slightly.

Remus did not know what to think. Would it been that terrible if Tonks had seen a Hogwarts house-elf Apparating with a freshly brewed dose of Wolfsbane potion? There was no point on wondering about it, he needed to take the potion right away.

"I'm sure Snivelly's timing the deliveries to the hours in which he know the possibilities are higher for the house-elf to meet somebody," Sirius grunted.

As a reply, Remus shrugged and drained the foul-tasting potion in one.

Still, he was glad of the opportunity to talk to Sirius before departing to the Dursleys. He was sure that otherwise he would have been just too depressed and that could even affect Harry when he arrived at headquarters.

"Good news, mate," he said while pouring himself a glass of water to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth. "We can get out."

"Oh that's great," Sirius did not take his gaze off the paper. "I'm not grounded then."

And yet, besides the sarcasm, Remus could see in his friends' eyes he was pleased and even thankful.

"We'll be back in no time," he had said, placing the empty glass on the counter with a grimace. "Harry will be alright."

"The sooner he gets out that loonies' place the better," Sirius had said, "even if I don't have much to offer."

He had looked around the gloomy kitchen and Remus had given her a soft punch in the shoulder.

"Self-pity won't take you anywhere," he stated.

"Pot, kettle."

With a dry laugh, Remus had left the kitchen to join the group.

They were all ready and Moody had been actually starting to fume about him not being there.

Since they were trying to avoid using too much magic, they had decided to Apparate at a considerable distance from Privet Drive and from than to fly into the house of Harry's relatives. Just as a precaution, they had asked Mrs. Figg to declare to the Ministry she would have a witch visitor; that would give them some room for small spells around Harry without anybody getting suspicious shall his Trace detect them.

Everything had been planed to the last detail and yet, he had felt somewhat anxious. The only think he could hope for if for the rest of the group to remain oblivious of his feelings.

He did not need to worry. Every member of the Guard seemed to be lost in his or her own thoughts. They even enjoyed their short fly into Little Whinging, Remus was sure of that. His eyes jumped from Elphias and Sturgis, who seemed to be racing each other, to Moody, focused on their target but with a somewhat satisfied smiled. His eyes had to remain on Tonks though, once he saw her, smiling widely, her eyes brilliant. It was as if he could not look away and he had to make an extra effort to focus on the approaching back yard of the Dursley's house.

When his feet touched the yellowish grass another feeling came over him. It was silly, really, but he had to admit he was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of meeting Harry again. It had been more than a year since the last time they had seen and spoken to each other. In the meantime, Remus had often thought about writing to him, especially when he knew he had been stressed about the Triwizard Tournament. Why hasn't he done it? He could not exactly tell. Maybe he had been scared about him not wanting to speak to him? It sounded silly even inside his own head and yet…

He had been abruptly brought back to reality by Tonks breaking a plate while navigating the dark kitchen. Mechanically, he bent over to repair it; Moody and Kingsley were already admonishing her, and when he handed the thing back, he could see her cheeks glow red. He was grateful though; her little mishap had been enough to put him back on track.

Again, he had been worrying too much. Harry had been very surprised to see all of them, of course, but other than that, perfectly friendly and more than eager to go away. Who could have blamed him?

Now, despite being terribly tired, Remus was too restless to go to sleep. Maybe he ought to clean the place now, since he was there already. He did not do it though, he was still replaying in his head every tiny event of the night.

Lost in his thoughts, he poured himself a cup of hot chocolate and sat at his kitchen table.

The flying back to headquarters had been much more difficult because of the long distance and the coldness of their surroundings. Of course, they were at the middle of the summer, but that didn't mean it would be warm at the height Moody had insisted they would have to fly. They could not even cast a warming charm around them, in case Harry's Trace would detect it. His Disillusionment had been the last piece of Magic they were to perform until arriving to number 12, Grimmauld Place; besides that detail, everything had gone according to plan.

They had had an Order meeting that had not been especially enlightening, and afterwards Molly had served dinner. It had been cheery enough; Remus could tell Sirius was happy of having Harry there, although he was not showing it too much. Harry, of course, wanted to know about everything that had been going on.

That had been an uncomfortable situation, with Molly wanting to keep the kids on the dark and Sirius acting as if it was logical for Harry and the others to know all about it. Remus could not say who was right but, knowing Harry, he was sure that hiding things from him would not help anybody.

So they had told him about some of the things the Order had made so far, what their respective missions were, what they…

Suddenly Remus realised something that had been bugging him.

"You see the problem," he had been explaining to Harry about the Ministry's denials of Voldemort's coming back. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the _Daily Prophet _not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumour-mongering, so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperious Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" Harry's question was just logical. "You're letting people know he's back?"

Remus smiled at him; he did not want to let the boy down, he liked his energy and yet, reality was often so different from what one might think it could be…

"Well," Sirius spoke first. "As everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand-Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?"

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community. It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

He had spoken automatically and apparently nobody had reacted to that. Why would have them? The Weasleys and the kids knew about him being a werewolf, those kids were even amongst the few people that had actually seen him transformed!

But speaking about it… that had been it. It had been the first time during this war he had spoken out loud about his lycanthropy with his fellow Order members.

He looked around. Sirius was explaining about what they had been doing, Arthur and Bill were listening to his every word, probably attentive to jump in; the kids were just fascinated about this new flow of information; sitting in a dark corner, Mundungus seemed to have fallen asleep again. And Tonks… Tonks was looking at her own hands fixedly and from his point of view, Remus could see she had gone very pale. A second after she looked up at him and quickly at the kids and everybody around the table.

She was still scared of him, of course. Even though the other night… the other night it had seemed she had been trying to talk with him again, to apologise maybe? She was now being friendly again, but he could bet she still had issues, she was still afraid.

He had had not time to dwell on that fact then. A short moment later Molly had come back to the kitchen. Her relationship with Sirius had been on the good track at the beginning, but soon his ill-humour and her taking over the house had started to collide. Harry's presence seemed to be changing the matter for worse.

_Of course,_ Remus thought, _you can count on James' son to want to join the next Order of the Phoenix even if he's not even of age._

It was silly, unthinkable even, and yet Sirius had that glow in his eyes; for a moment Remus had the impression Sirius was looking at James again.

"Why not?" Harry was protesting against his not being able to join the Order. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight —"

Molly was ready to say something and Remus could see that would lead to an argument with Sirius. That was the last thing they needed right now.

"No," he said firmly. "The Order is comprised only of overage wizards. Wizards who have left school," he could see Fred and George marshalling an argument and he had to stop them before they start. "There are dangers involved of which you can have no idea, any of you… I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."

It pained him to say that; again, after all these years, he was stuck with the role of being the voice of reason, only this time it was not James he had to talk into something, but his son.

For a moment, he got distracted, wondering if, for Tonks, he was to be listed as one of the dangers he had talked about; he could not keep that line of thought. Sirius had made a small gesture but at least he did not seem to want to argue any more. Finally the kids were standing up and going to bed.

Remus went to his front door; his cloak was pending from a hanger. He rummaged in the inside pocket and produced a piece of purple parchment. He unfolded it, even though he did not need to read his contents again.

Right after Molly had taken the kids up to bed, Tonks had produced that very same piece of parchment, carefully folded, from the insides of her overstuffed wallet.

"I had almost forgotten about this," she muttered putting it on the table.

Remus raised his eyebrows in a silent question but the people around him seemed to know what that was about.

"I know Kingsley gave his to Dumbledore," Arthur said, "I just showed mine at home and then threw it away."

Remus approached his hand at the purple sheet.

"May I…?" he asked Tonks.

"Sure, go ahead." She looked as if she had just swallowed something disgusting.

Carefully he opened it. It was a very official looking Ministry communicate.

_Internal Communicate_

_It has recently come to our knowledge that a group of wizards had been attempting to undermine the Magical Community's internal security by us provided. This group, undoubtedly trying to destabilize the current peaceful order, is spreading rumours about the returning of a certain Dark Wizard and might as well be trying to recruit followers in order to take part in yet unknown subversive attacks._

_It is the duty of the Ministry of Magic and each and every one of its workers to commit themselves in the identification of the wizards or witches involved in such a dangerous group and to inform the Ministry, as well as to repress those rumours, so to avoid a wave of fear that would do nothing but threaten our safety._

_The Ministry of Magic is ready to take any measure to eliminate the threat and take measures against the ones taking part in it, even if those were found to belong to this very office._

_Cornelius Fudge,_

_Minister for Magic_

Remus read it passed it to Sirius who was looking curious.

"When did you get this? Why haven't we seen it before?" Remus asked.

Tonks shrugged.

"It never came up, I guess. We all know the essentials, right? We can't be doing what we're doing, we're risking out jobs, we're a threat... you know, the whole drill."

"We got it right after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament," Arthur explained.

"They move fast," Sirius grunted, dropping the parchment back on the table.

"Are you afraid?" Remus was looking at Tonks now, not sure of what had he chosen that particular word.

She shrugged.

"When you decide to become an Auror, you must be aware of the fact that you'll always be somewhat afraid." She managed to produce a crooked smile. "It's just bollocks."

Tonks was still looking pale and Remus wished he could read her thoughts. It occurred to him that even though 'afraid' was the right word, it might not be directed to him any more.

Sirius seemed to be eager to change the subject and Mundungus was already standing up to go home.

"Can I borrow this for a while?" Remus looked at Tonks, his finger on the parchment.

"Yeah, be my guest," she shrugged again, standing up as well.

He had not known then why he had taken that sheet of parchment and now, looking at it again, it was not any clearer. Maybe he just wanted to read through her fears; maybe he wanted some additional causes that might prove he was not the reason for this.

Remus shook his head and carelessly tossed the parchment on the coffee table.

_What is the point?_ He finally asked himself while getting into bed. He could not find a suitable answer.


	53. It had been a trap

_Late August 1995._

It had been a trap. Somehow, somebody had learned to infiltrate the Order and pass along information. Tonight's mission had been the result of that.

"Do you reckon we should go back to headquarters?" Tonks asked for the second time. Her voice was still shaky, even though he could see she was trying to sound strong and confident.

He had been the first one suggesting it and now he was not so sure anymore. Circumstances had changed and now new ideas were crossing his mind.

"Maybe we should stay for a while," Remus said slowly. "I want to check the sewers. Since we are here, it won't hurt to inform how many werewolves are still living here."

"Wait what?" Tonks hand was on his arm, holding him softly. The scars he had just healed shone read against her pale skin.

_He had been anxious since he had found out where this mission was going to be, and the fact that somehow Tonks had been designed as his partner was only making matters worse. The last think he would ever want to do was to approach Fenrir Greyback's area, even if hidden, with Tonks at his side. Things had been bad enough with her and his lycanthropy, without her having to face the places and facts._

"_So, you're not going to tell me why are you so worried about this particular mission, aren't you?" Sirius voice back at Headquarters, mere minutes before going on the mission, had sounded teasing. He was plainly wanted to pursuit his new favourite subject, whether there was something going on between Tonks and Remus or not, even though it was the last thing Remus wanted._

"_I am not worried," Remus said stiffly, sipping from his mug of coffee. _

"_Whatever suits you, mate."_

_Remus sighed. Why would he give Sirius the satisfaction of an answer was beyond his own understanding, but he guessed it had something to do with pitying him a little; truth to be told, whatever that might get Sirius out of his own gloomy thoughts, even if it was for a brief moment, was good at their present situation._

"_So, you don't like the mission," Sirius spoke again before he could think of a way of trying to sum up his thoughts and present them in the most innocuous way possible._

"_It's not the mission," Remus prompted._

"_Greyback then, you don't want to meet him again."_

"_Obviously," he rolled his eyes._

_Sirius was started to say something but Remus decided there was not easy way to say that and it would be better to finish the discussion. Tonks would arrive soon and something he absolutely would not want was her overhearing his fears._

"_It's not Greyback," Remus put his empty mug on the table, wishing he still had something to do with his hands. "That's not all of it. It all might be just an empty tip off and nothing might happen except being there stuck for some time… it's not the site, it's not him… If you must know, what worries me right now is all that… it's," he sighed, he could as well just say it. "It's Tonks."_

"_What about Tonks?"_

_It was difficult to answer. Remus stood up and took his mug to the sink, trying to clear his thoughts._

"_I have the feeling she's been… I don't know, almost as if she has overcome those prejudices of her. She's trying to be friendly; it's almost as if she had forgotten what I am. And now we're tasked to go there… I just __don't think this would do anybody any good."_

"_That's the problem with you, mate. You think too much."_

_Shortly after that Tonks had walked down the kitchen. She seemed to be perfectly friendly now, even though he could feel some stiffness in her demeanour. Something was still missing, they were not yet back to their old comradeship, and Remus could not quite say why._

_And then there was this mission. Both would go to that swamp and try to intercept the Death Eater that might or might not try to make contact with the werewolves. _

_Of course, if this tip off happened to be true it would only prove that the plan he had tried to sell to Moody, Dumbledore and Sirius would be a good one. This would prove that the werewolves were in league with the Death Eaters. And yet, they had gotten so many useless tip-offs lately…_

_They had been there for a while; a long useless waiting so near the place that brought him so many unhappy memories. And just when Remus was starting to think there was nothing to be afraid of and that they had been wasting their time in that place, three figures arrived, coming from different directions, attacking him and Tonks._

"Listen," he spoke again, trying to ignore Tonks' hand on his arm, "we're here, Greyback's not. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I know where they usually hide; it's not far away from here. I'll just get there and evaluate the situation."

"Are you mental?" Tonks wasn't letting go. "You're not going anywhere on your own. What if that's precisely the place where Greyback's Apparated and you just run into him?"

"I'll be hidden, I know my way around."

"You can't go there on your own. I'll come with you."

"I'm not taking you-" Remus started.

"I can handle it."

"I'm not willing to find out if that's true."

_Jinxes seemed to be getting fired at them from every possible direction._

_He lost sight of Tonks for a moment. The three figures in dark robes knew what they were doing; they had separated the two of them and now keeping his attacker at bay was taking almost his entire concentration. He needed to fight him off quickly. Somewhere not very far away Tonks was fighting two attackers at the time; he could hear her casting of spells with quick, precise shouts._

_His attacker was a good dueller; he had already tried to send two jets of purple light in his direction. Remus realised he was not aiming to kill, they wanted to capture him alive. He could practically hear Moody's words of warning about getting caught and tortured in order to get information. The Order could not afford something like that to happen._

"Stupefy_!"_

_The man in front of him finally collapsed onto the floor but Remus had more pressing matters and he did not check on him. He needed to find Tonks and her attackers; he could not hear her casting of spells any more and that eerie silence sent cold shivers down his spine._

_He needed to find her quickly._

_A soft cry was barely audible among the woods made him turn around. He sprinted forward and what he saw was even worse than his fears. Tonks had been caught; somebody had his arms around her and was sinking his fingernails on her arm, for a moment there was a struggle; the attacker was trying to make her drop her wand. There was nothing Remus could do, he realised as Tonks' wand hit the ground. He could not risk jinx the attacker without hitting Tonks._

"_That's much better," the man said, and the next moment he was strangling her with the same dirty hand he had used before. He knew that hand, he recognized the outline. Even worse, he recognised the voice._

_It couldn't be other way, could it?_

"_Leave her, Greyback." Remus checked around, his wand pointing at Greyback. Where was the second attacker?_

_The werewolf turned around. Despite of starting to get red in the face, Tonks was still fighting to free herself from his grip. _

"_Lupin, well hello there," Greyback was smiling and the thought of his reek this close to Tonks made Remus want to jump forward and just punch him senseless. "Fancy meeting you here, of all places. You've decided to come back where you belong?"_

"_I said, leave her."_

_Remus moved his wand a little to better aim at Greyback. He could just try to stun him, but what if he moved and he hit Tonks instead?_

"_No, I don't think I would just yet. You know how much I enjoy... flesh."_

_The sight of his dirty fingernails stroking Tonks' cheek was sickening but more so were his words. Was he really planning on biting her? He couldn't! Again, Tonks was squirming, trying to free her body from Greyback's embrace._

"_Oh, you're a fighter... a young fighter," the werewolf sounded pleased and Remus half wished Tonks would stay put for a moment. "This should be interesting."_

"All right," Tonks said, taking her hand off Remus' arm but glaring at him with fierce eyes. "I won't go, but you don't need to go either, Remus. We know now that Greyback's in league with the Death Eaters; that should be enough. If we need to get more information we could get more people to search the place over. You can't go in there on your own."

"Why can't I?" Remus looked into her eyes. He would never admit it out loud but he wanted her to do exactly this, he wanted her to stop him from going into the sewers.

Suddenly he realized the implications of what had just happened. The fact that he had faced Greyback, even more, fought him, meant that it would be close to impossible now for him to join the pack. Without planning it, Tonks had succeeded on preventing him to go to the werewolves, at least from the time being.

"You just can't," her voice was almost a whisper but her eyes were fierce.

"_It is not full moon yet, Fenrir," he said, trying to buy some time in order to get a better aim._

"_Oh, I'm aware of that, just as you are fully aware that that particular detail doesn't matter to me any more. You see, girl," he was now whispering in Tonks' ear but his eyes didn't left Remus', "flesh is flesh, and I don't need to transform in order to enjoy it. And yours seems particularly tasty..."_

"_Don't count on that!" Tonks blurted and Remus saw in her eyes the sign he needed. Twisting all her body, Tonks aimed a punch on Greyback's stomach._

_It worked; out of air he bent over, releasing her. And instant later, he had fallen on the ground, stunned by a spell so strong Remus literary sent him flying back a couple of meters._

_Tonks was on her knees on the damp mud of the swamp, panting. With two long strides Remus was at his side._

"_Are you all right?"_

"_Yeah, I'm-"_

_There was a loud _crack_ at their backs and Remus recognised the man he had been fighting; he had just Apparated next to the fallen figure of the werewolf. At once Remus and Tonks pointed their wands in the man's direction but it was too late. He had Disapparated again, carrying the immobile figure of Greyback._

"_Fuck!" Tonks yelled, jumping into the space that had just been vacated. "Damn them! You come back... come back here you filthy werewolf!"_

_It felt as being slapped on the face. The pain, though, was beyond physical. It was something cold and raw and harsh, much stronger than everything he had ever felt. That two words said by Tonks seemed to outline what he had always feared people would think about him, what he knew in his heart of hearts they did._

_Tonks turned around, she was pale and wide-eyed._

"_I'm... I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't mean to..."_

"_That's what I am for you, right?" he looked at where Greyback had laid a moment ago. His voice sounded detached and raw, and seemed to be acting on its own accord. "A filthy werewolf."_

"_No, Remus, I didn't-"_

"_You didn't mean to say it? But you think that nonetheless." He looked at her again, her eyes were pleading but he did not care. Something inside him was boiling, ready to be released._

"_Remus I..."_

_He could not keep calm; he could not stop that bitter thing inside him. He did not even want to. Without knowing how, he was standing right in front of her._

"_What do you know about werewolves?" he was yelling and he knew he was probably scaring her, but he did not care any more. "What have you learned during that stupid training of yours? How many of us have you actually met?"_

"_Remus, I'm sorry..." her voice broke but he could not stop his flow of rage._

"_Do you think it's easy? Do you think it's even a choice? Have you ever thought about it?"_

"_I didn't mean you!" she yelled; something seemed to break inside Tonks as well._

"_Really?" he scorned at her."And what I am, according to you?" Just say it, Nymphadora, just tell me once and for all how disgusted you are when you see me, how I make you think about what's foulest on earth, how I am nothing but a Dark Creature._

"_You're different!" _

"_I'm not! I'm just as filthy a werewolf as any other of my kind!"_

"_You're not!" Tonks voice broke, she seemed to be about to burst into tears._

"_Without being able to think about it, he took another step forward; now there were just a few centimetres separating him from Tonks._

"_I was bitten, just like any other werewolf. I transform every full moon, just like Fenrir or any other. I yearn for human flesh, I want to hurt, to bite, to taste, just like every werewolf there is."_

"_But you don't do it. You wouldn't ever... You stay away from people!"_

"_You can't be sure of that." You don't know me Nymphadora; all you know about me are general facts. What if those are right? For you they are anyway, right?_

"_Yes I am!" her voice was strong again and Remus could practically feel her vibrate next to him "I know you: I've had plenty of opportunities to see that you are a good man!"_

"_I'm a werewolf," his voice seemed to have lost all emotion, it sounded almost dead. "That's why you wouldn't talk to me any more, isn't it?"_

_For a long, painful moment, she did not speak. And he could not say if he wanted her to or no._

"_That's not…" her voice was so weak now, even at this distance it was difficult for Remus to make out the words "I made a mistake."_

"_You did not," he said. "You acted like everybody in their senses would act. You wanted to protect yourself and that's fine. That's the way I'm used to be treated."_

_He could not look at her but somehow he could not find the energy for stepping back and going away. He could feel her eyes fixed on his but he would not meet them either. This had been a mistake, maybe one of the worse mistakes of his life._

_It was time to leave._

* * *

**AN: So this goes back in time a lot, I hope it's not too confusing. Tonks' equivalent is chapter 55.**

**Cheers!**


	54. You just can't

"You just can't," Tonks had said.

She would not let him go to the sewers on his own and he would not let her come with him to that particular place.

And he knew she was right if only for practical reasons. Defending her against Greyback and stunning him had been his very own official declaration of war to the werewolves. There would not be any plans of him joining them for the time being.

He had to admit, even if only silently, that he was relieved.

Remus could swear Tonks was still trembling slightly. He could not say, though, if it was because of her encounter with Greyback or because her – no, their – latest outburst. Of course, trust Tonks not to stay silent after something like this. But, if Remus was to be honest, he had said her some terrible things and maybe he even deserved some of what she had replied.

"_I think your mission here is over," he had finally said, feeling his voice raw and his insides empty. He took a step back, trying to get away from Tonks, from this place, from everything around her. They needed to leave. He needed to leave._

"_Wait, Remus" _

_The plea in her voice felt as if she was physically drawing him back but he was not going to look. Suddenly she was grabbing his sleeve and, with a strong pull, she was actually making him turn around and face her again. The surprise of the gesture rended him unable to fight._

"_Look, Remus, I was stupid."_

_He was tired, burned out, he did not want to keep arguing this any further, he did not need to._

"_You were not, it was just-"_

"_Let me finish!" she stopped him and her voice was now low and serious. "I was stupid. For a time, and even though I've gotten to know you, I let the fact that you are a werewolf... and all the stupid facts and memories that I might have on the subject... I let it all win over everything else. And then I realised it has nothing to do with who you are…"_

And who I am according to you Nymphadora? _He was not sure he wanted to know the answer to that question._

_"But it does!" He yelled instead. _Of course being a werewolf has everything to do with what I am.

"_Would you be quiet for once?" Tonks was yelling again but this time it was not only shame or exasperation, a hot fury seemed to be filling her up as well. Suddenly she grabbed the front of his robes and shook him; Remus knew he could just get her off but somehow her gesture paralysed him. "It doesn't have anything to do with what you are, and you know it! That's why it did hurt you so much, didn't it? 'Cause deep down you knew I was being an idiot. 'Cause you know you're so much better than all that werewolf rubbish!"_

_She paused for a moment, taking deep breaths; her hands were still grabbing the front of his clothes. He could feel her chest heaving, her gaze steady on his, even her breath and the scents of the recent fight all around them. He wanted her to let go and at the same time, he wanted to stay this close to her forever._

"_It took me some time to realise that," her voice was soft now, almost shaky, but her grip was as firm as ever. He had to force his senses to ignore all those overwhelming scents and feeling and focus on her words. "All the prejudices I have were stronger at the beginning... even though I always knew that your being a werewolf doesn't matter, not really. I know that saying I'm sorry isn't good enough, but I am… I really am, Remus."_

_Finally letting go of his robes, she took a step back. The place she had just vacated was suddenly filled with very cold air._

"_I just hope you'll get to forgive me," she whispered, her voice cracking again, very slightly._

_He was frozen in the spot, without being able to take his eyes off her. When was the last time somebody has been this close to him? A very long while ago. And when had it been the last time he had felt so shaken by somebody, so filled with all possible emotions his heart seemed to be about to burst?_

_Never._

_Her voice, now even softer than before, took him off his silent questions._

"_D'you reckon we should go back, then?"_

"_I've never lost my temper like this before," he heard his words without being able to think about them. "I don't know what came over me."_

_The statement was not entirely true, but this was not the moment for him to dwell on that other time and that other person that had made him feel so many things at once. This was different though; a first. The place Tonks seemed to be taking inside of him was one that had never been occupied before._

"_I guess I can be really exasperating," there was the smallest of smiles now, and it was as if the coldness around him had receded a little._

"_True." And suddenly, he felt like smiling back at her. Where were all those waves of anger now? "Charmingly so," he added._

_She was blushing now, and Remus wondered, as he had done before, is she was noticing it and had chosen not to morph it away._

_"I'm sorr-"_

_He did not need to hear that again._

"_I would very much appreciate if you'd stop apologising."_

"_Oh," she looked surprised. "All right."_

_"Let me see your wrist," he could see the drops of blood dripping down to the earth and he vaguely wondered if there would be some of that on his cloak as well. He did not feel like checking it just yet._

_"What's with my… oh, it's bleeding."_

_"Yeah," Remus said, doubting for a second if she would let him do this. How true is it that she had decided she did not care about his lycanthropy? Would she stand him touching her? And suddenly he felt the need not to be to solemn about this. Maybe Sirius was right, maybe he did think too much and it would never work that way with Tonks. Carefully, slowly in order to give her the opportunity to step back, he reached for her wrist. She did not move. "That filthy werewolf over there managed to sink his filthy fingernails in your skin."_

_A hert-beat later she was looking at him with incredulity and then with amusement._

_"You mocking me, Lupin?" she asked, her eyebrow arched._

_"I think I am, Nymphadora," he said, trying to sound as serious as possible and knowing he was failing. He pointed his wand at the scratches and closed them, trying to be as clean and careful as possible. It was not a terrible wound, but a wound nonetheless; something that would even left a mark on that soft pale skin. "I feared something like this might happen," he added._

_"Well, wounds do happen," she replied carelessly. "And, to me, with an alarming frequency."_

_"That's not what I meant." Why was he feeling he needed to explain himself? She was listening carefully though, and he could not stop now. "I was positive we were going to find werewolves today. As a matter of fact, I didn't want you to come along to this particular mission on the first place."_

_Tonks looked at him wide-eyed._

_"That's what you and Sirius were talking about back at Headquarters."_

_This was a surprise but then, it should not have been. If the kids had managed to listen to a handful of order meetings, why would Tonks stop herself in front of a closed door?_

_"I'm sorry I eavesdropped on you," she added, and her would-be guilty tone was almost convincing._

_"Are you?"_

_"Nah," she smiled, "not really. But how did you know we were going to meet werewolves?"_

How do I know? Well, I wish I did not.

_"They dwell not far from here," he could talk volumes about everything he had learned from this particular pack, he could tell almost everything that had happened inside those sewers. He could tell Tonks exactly what he knew. Only, this was not the right time and Remus even doubted there would ever be a right time._

_She needed an answer, though._

_"I used to live here too," he added._

_"But you left," she said almost triumphantly._

_"I did." He had no idea how to put into words everything that had happened with him during that brief period. "I decided being a werewolf wouldn't define my entire life. So I went to live among wizards. We're done here," he realised her wrist was still in his hands, she had not tried to remove it and he had been distracted. Now he let it go very softly. "I hope there won't be any scars."_

_"Thanks..." she looked confused at the change of subject, "and thanks for... you know... rescuing me."_

_"Not to worry. I..." there was something he was yearning to tell her, but how could he say it? What if she…? Yeah, Sirius was right: he needed to stop thinking this much. "I don't have enough words to describe how upset would I be if something had happened to you tonight."_

_Tonks remained silent for a while and Remus felt he had said too much._

_"Well," she finally said, and he almost sighed out loud in relief, "you know, as an Auror there are too many chances that something might happen to me sooner or later. Add to that the fact that we are both members of the Order."_

_"I know, but still. I just want you to be safe."_

Tonks' hold on his arm grew stronger, and her eyes, fiercer.

"You can't go there on your own, because you don't belong here, and you need somebody at your side remaining you of that. Otherwise, I bet you'll lose it."

He looked at Tonks again. What could she possibly know about his feelings? It was obvious now; he had to admit she could see through him in a way that was just too accurate. Of course, he could reply to this, but he knew he would trigger her again and he did not have the energy for a new outburst.

Remus had to admit, though, he would not mind her getting hold of his robes again. _I have to stop these sort of thoughts right now._

"All right", he sighed, "Let's go back to headquarters."

Tonks' smile was weak, but it was clear that her relief echoed his, only in a slightly different way.

She was approaching him now, and for a wild moment he thought she had read his mind and was going to get hold of him and his robes the way she had not long before. She did not. Almost hesitantly, she stretched her hand in his direction; Tonks wanted him to take it.

He did, and in one swift movement her fingers were resting in his palm.

"Headquarters, then," she just said, and both were spinning around, getting closer to one another.

* * *

Many hours had passed and Remus was still pacing his room, replaying the words inside his mind, trying to make sense of what had just happened with Tonks. If he concentrated on it, he could still recreate the feeling of her small hand in his, and her body so close while Apparating.

But that one was not his main memory. He had yelled at her, he had lost the firm grip he always kept on his temper. He had let his feelings take the best of him and the outburst had been so strong, so terrifying…

And yet, Tonks had stood her ground.

She had not run away, she had not stayed silent, she had not jinxed him or tried to shield herself from him. She had actually had an outburst so very similar to his and everything she had said had been true and relieving.

Something had shifted, something powerful had happened.

Remus had lied to her; it had not been the first time he had lost his temper. It had been the first one after a long while, though. The last time he had yelled like that had been almost fourteen years ago, to Sirius, the only time he had seen him in Azkaban.

The pain, before and afterwards, had been so deep it had been close to impossible to separate all the components. He had lost almost all his friends, he had known what betrayal meant and he had hurt and been hurt by his own words. Sirius' expression of utter despair had chased him in the following years, both in his nightmares and while being awake.

And many years later, after learning he had been innocent, it had been so much worse; no matter how many times Sirius would assure him there was nothing to ask forgiveness for, he would always regret having been so quick at silencing him.

Would Sirius have yelled back to Remus, had he been able to talk?

He very much doubted so. There was something else in Tonks, some sort of life, of unending energy, that Sirius had lacked after James' death.

There he was again, regretting having lost his temper. Only this time it was not Sirius' haunted expression but Tonks' that was filling his mind. Tonks, blushed and beautiful, yelling back at him in such an intense way, and getting so close he had…

Why had he lost his temper with her anyway? He knew better than that. All those years of hearing people saying terrible things to him only because of his lycanthropy, knowing that somebody suddenly taking their distance, or plainly disappearing from his life only meant that that person had found out, _filthy werewolf_ had not been the worst of it, not even close.

It had not been it.

Remus had to sit on his bed as realisation finally came. It had been her.

She, as important as Sirius, as his father lying to him, as his three friends willing to risk so much for him…

Whatever it was that he was feeling for her, he had just realised he would not be able to ignore it.


	55. No matter how badly

No matter how badly he wanted to read on Tonks' every word and action lately, there always seemed to be something more urgent, somebody in need, a task to finish. Remus' mind was torn between his Order duties and a very strange flow of ideas, most of them quite unnerving, others even pleasant, concerning her.

There was no point in trying to fool his own brain into thinking he was just appreciating her as a colleague, as an asset. The situation had gone way beyond that long ago, maybe even before she had found out about him.

And now, he was finding himself climbing up the stairs of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, even though technically he did not need to be there, wishing she would have dropped by. It was almost midnight; she was probably back in her apartment or off at some Aurors mission but maybe, just maybe…

On the hallway he was greeted by Fred and George on their way to their rooms. There was something conspiratorial in their demeanour but, Remus had to admit, that was usually the way the twins behaved. This time, with a wink, George approached him and made a fuss about shaking his hand.

Remus was puzzled and more so when he felt something not unlike rubber being pressed against his palm.

"Don't tell Mum, all right?" Fred whispered, looking upstairs.

Remus recognised the fleshy string of an Extendable Ear.

"Thank you, but I already have one."

"Not like this one," George winked again.

"We've managed to get pass the Imperturbable Charm," Fred announced.

Remus softly whistled in admiration.

"Is that even possible?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Fred said, "tricky, but possible."

"How much for this one?" Remus asked, trying to remember exactly how much did he carry in his pockets.

"Nah, that one's for free," George said with a wave of his hand. "Could you do us a favour, though?" He fished inside an inner pocket of his jacket and produced a second string. "Would you mind giving Tonks this one?"

"We owe her," Fred added, "she's the one who put us into the right track about how to get pass that charm… indirectly."

"And we don't know if the next time we'll see her, we'll be able to pass it to her… you know, without Mum noticing and all."

Remus was barely listening. The word Tonks had triggered those memories inside his brain again. The only thing he registered was that she was not at headquarters.

"Would you?"

It took him a heartbeat to understand what George was asking.

"Of course," Remus nodded, suddenly glad to have a good reason to talk to her. "When I see her."

"Thanks," both twins said, heading upstairs.

Well, he had come all the way here; he could just make something more out of his visit and try to cheer up one of the two permanent occupants of Number 12.

Despite of the late hour, Sirius was still in the kitchen, his hand clutching a glass full of amber liquid. Mechanically Remus wondered how much had he already drunk. Harry and the rest of the kids would go back to Hogwarts in just a couple of days. It was not a secret to anybody how Sirius' depression had grown deeper every day since realising this. He was not to blame; neither were the kids or even Molly. And yet, Remus wished there was somebody to be hold responsible.

"Have you saved some for me?" Remus said, pointing at the glass.

With just a nod as a greeting, Sirius heaved a bottle off the floor. Remus was glad to see it was almost full.

"You haven't been drinking with Fred and George, have you?"

"Nah," Sirius grunted. "I'm supposed to set an example, right?"

"And you're doing a fine job at it," Remus said, summoning an empty glass and pouring himself less than a finger of Firewhiskey.

Sirius grunted.

"So you were right," he said.

"About what?"

"About your last mission with that crazy cousin of mine."

It seemed as if all of them had been conspiring to put Tonks back in his mind no matter what, and he could not say he was entirely annoyed by it.

"I hate to say 'I told you so'."

"You don't hate to say that," Sirius drained his glass and filled it again in one swift movement.

Remus chuckled humourlessly.

"I gather Tonks told you her version?"

He was curious of what that version might have been. He wanted Sirius to tell him exactly what she had made of their encounter with Fenrir Greyback.

"I read your report, actually."

"So she did not tell you anything?"

His question had come too fast; Sirius was looking at him with curiosity and something else. After what felt as a long moment, he shook his head.

"She told me some of it, yeah."

"And?"

"Come off it, if you want to know her take on getting a sniff of Fenrir Greyback's breath, you'll have to ask her."

Remus rolled his eyes. Was it his impression or for a moment there Sirius had looked a little less gloomy?

"Can I ask you something, Moony."

"You can, I don't know if I'll answer though."

Sirius nodded.

"Fair enough."

For a moment he did not say a thing but just looked at his glass.

"Are you going to ask or not?"

Sirius sighed.

"I was thinking... you know, about that time when you got back here, before teaching..."

Remus could see what sort of questions Sirius was going to ask and he felt something very uncomfortable inside. He did not mind his friend asking but he could not help but feeling a little on edge.

"Does this have something to do about what you've talked with Tonks? About the mission?"

Sirius grunted.

"This has nothing to do with her. I'm not asking a thing for her, nor am I going to tell her a thing about you that you might not want her to know. I'd have thought that part was clear. Something about the mission made me think... there is something I don't understand."

"What is it?"

"Greyback," Sirius was now looking at him, his gaze clear. "Why did you go to his pack of all places?"

Remus had felt Tonks had wanted to ask exactly this back when they had been attacked and he had dodged the question just barely. Sirius was something else entirely; for once, he would not allow him to dodge the question, and of course there was the fact the, from all the people Remus knew, Sirius was the one he could actually tell about that time. But tell him what, exactly, if for Remus himself that period of his life had passed in some sort of blur?

"It was a very... strange moment for me. It was strange being back here, with all that had happened and... well... alone. You know, right when I arrived, give or take a few weeks, that woman Dolores Umbridge passed the most of the anti-werewolves' legislation. I had just gotten a job working at a small library and the owner found out what I was, so he fired me. That time I had met him, when I had just turned 17, Greyback had told me something that was starting to be true: there was no place for me."

"But that's not even-"

"I know what you're going to say," Remus cut across what was surely going to be a loud protest. "I just want you to see it the way I saw it back then. It all pointed down to the same: I had no place to go, except home with my mother, and I did not want her to see me like that. Nobody would give me a job thanks to that new legislation... you know, I consider myself a fairly pacific person, but I don't know what I'd do if I had the chance to do something to her."

"They tell me you're not the only one."

Remus took a sip from his glass. He had never really enjoyed the burning sensation of Firewhiskey running down his throat, but he felt he needed some of the light-headedness it would give him.

"So there I was, just wandering around, until I met another one, another werewolf. He had just joined Fenrir's pack and he told me about this other way of living. He was not too fond of it, I must say, but he said that for the first time ever he felt he belonged somewhere. Back then I had a lot of experience with packs, I knew that being surrounded by werewolves was not enough after a few days but I did not want to tell him that. Actually I started thinking that maybe the reason I did not fit was because of the other werewolves not talking my language or having different customs."

Sirius just nodded, Remus had the impression he was trying to memorise his words.

"So I asked this fellow about the location of the pack and he directed me to that place, close to where Tonks and I went."

Memories of that time had almost completely overcome his thoughts about her. Almost. He could recall the place, as clear as if it had been the day before when he had lived there last. There was the smell of trash and mud and meat, the sounds of footsteps, growls and howls, the booming of Greyback's voice.

"He received me as if I were his lost son," Remus spoke again. "He said it was about time and some of them were nice enough."

He was not sure if he should keep on talking. Sirius seemed to be guessing his thoughts.

"So you did felt like you belonged."

His voice was neutral, almost as if he was talking about something else.

"For a while, yes." Remus was half-fearing he would start yelling that it was not right, that he was different; fortunately he did not. That was a discussion Remus wanted to avoid as long as possible. "Soon after I realised it was all a setup. They had just wanted to get hold on me, to mark me, to make me as different from a wizard as somebody could be, so that I could not go back to live among wizards and I would stay with them. Greyback did no longer want somebody to mix with wizards; he just wanted more members on his pack."

"How long did you stayed?"

"A couple of full moons. The first one I just hid. The second, I tried to avoid some of the members of the pack to attack humans. Needless to say I couldn't," he laughed bitterly. "That was the worse transformation of my life, I was so wounded. As soon as I could stand without help, I went away."

"And you never came back?"

"Until two days ago, no."

Sirius stood up and put his glass on the sink.

"So now you see why I didn't want Tonks to go there with me," Remus felt he had to say.

Sirius turned around, shaking his head.

"As a matter of fact, mate, no I still don't see it."

Remus shook his head incredulously.

"Don't you see what happened? She was just faced with what I am! And she was scared enough without Greyback hurting her!"

"Now I think you're off the right track. I'm almost sure this was exactly what she needed."

"How on Merlin's name did you work that out?"

"Well... you know how it works for her. It's all about believes, and prejudices, and stuff she had just read about. I'm sure she just had to be faced with the real deal, with the way both things work for you. And now, she has! I bet her thoughts about you are more accurate now."

"And that's supposed to make it better?" Remus arched his eyebrow. He was tired of the conversation already.

"It very well should," Sirius was smiling now. It was all so ridiculous. "She did not run for it, though, did he?"

"She did not have the chance."

"Yes, keep telling yourself that."

And yet, besides his scepticism, Remus could not help thinking that maybe Sirius was right. Another memory of Tonks was successfully taking his mind off the sewers: the image of her, walking towards him the couple of steps that separated them, her hand outstretched. She had wanted to Apparate with him; she had chosen to do that.

This was absolutely not the place nor the company to dwell on that particular thought though.

He had remembered something and this night seemed to be just right to prove if his plan would work.

"Everybody went to sleep?"

"A while ago," Sirius was reaching towards the bottle, it seemed he had changed his mind and was about to resume his drinking. "The twins were the last."

Remus stood up and drained his own glass.

"Are you too drunk to transform, then?" he asked. He could see in his expression the idea working his way through his brain.

"Are you serious?" all trace of the previous gloominess seemed to be gone now, his eyes were actually bright.

"Nope, you are. I'm Remus. Now, do your mongrel thing and let's hope nobody will come tonight and see I've taken the dog for a walk."

* * *

**AN: To all hard-core HP fans out there, happy May 2nd!  
Thank you very much for reading, reviewing and putting this story into your alerts or fav's!**

**Cheers! **


	56. A much smaller man than his usual self

_September 1__st__ 1995._

Remus looked to the mirror one last time before leaving his flat. A man, much smaller than his usual self, looked back. The person, dressed in the navy blue clothes of the maintenance workers at the Ministry of Magic had droopy eyes behind his thick glasses. Other than that, he was a very unremarkable fellow, the sort anybody would easily forget. That was why he had been chosen in the first place.

It had been one of Kingsley's ideas and it had proven to be a very cleaver one. He had been also the one who had found the particular Muggle Remus was now impersonating and had even got hold of a large quantity of the man's hairs by simply following him to get a haircut.

It turned out that had been the easiest part of the entire operation.

Remus Apparated a few blocks away from the Ministry and started walking. He had asked his boss for the afternoon shift today, in order to take Harry and the others to King's Cross; of course, he had not said any of that, but just vaguely talked about some sick relative. Fortunately, the person in charge of the Magical Maintenance department seemed to have no interest in details. Usually, earlier in the morning, the streets would have been full of people hurrying to their jobs. Now, just before lunchtime, people seemed to be walking lazily up and down the streets, some of them with sandwiches and carton cups of coffee in their hands.

He walked down the street as casual as possible but instead of getting into one of the nearby buildings or shops, or into the apparently vandalised telephone cabin, he made a beeline to the iron railings that showed the entry to some public toilettes. They looked old fashioned and empty, strangely out of place. Of course, since he was impersonating a Ministry worker, Remus could just use the Floo Network in the Atrium but there was also this other entrance most wizards and witches avoided, an entrance that incidentally suited the Order's interests better.

At the early stages of the plan, they had considered this new worker could just use the Floo Network to get inside the Ministry building, but Moody, who had largely collaborated in the design of the operation, had feared that with the increased paranoia of the government somebody might get the idea of tracking the fires in order to see where every worker was coming from. If that was the case, that person would see that the newest member of the Magic Maintenance came to work from a handful of different locations, alternating them every day.

"They'll just think he's having a very interesting life," Tonks had prompted with a cheeky smiled directed exclusively to exasperate Moody, when he had voiced his fears.

Other than rolling both his magical and his normal eyes, the Auror had ignored her.

It had been a joke, of course, because everybody realised that said 'interesting life' could lead the Ministry into the houses of almost every member of the Order. To the ones who did guard duty at the Department of Mysteries, at least, since each of them were taking turns to drink the Polyjuice Potion that would transform them into the small bespectacled worker.

It had taken a lot of help from Mundungus Fletcher to get hold of the needed forged documents and, just in case they were not enough, Tonks, Arthur and Kingsley had had to cast more than one Confundus spells to make the Ministry believe this person was indeed a wizard, and one suited for the job at that. Mundungus had even gotten a wand, although he would not say from whom, and so the character of Sid Wilkins had been created. That had given them a way of entering the Ministry not once, but every day, in order to guard the Department of Mysteries. Had this fictitious Mr. Wilkins not existed, the number of members who could have a valid reason to even enter the Ministry would be dramatically reduced, thus making the job much harder.

So now, almost every day a different member of the Order would take the potion and enter the Ministry, do some actual work, cleaning or fixing something, keeping their ears open but especially, waiting for everybody to go home. At night, when the regular working shifts would be over, the non-existent Sid would hide and wait for the perfect moment to wear the Invisibility Cloak and sit neat that closed door, in order to guard what was inside.

During the morning, Remus devoted himself to mop one empty hallway for a long time, trying to catch some phrases of what was being said around. Of course, the largest amount of useful information the Order was getting from inside the Ministry was provided by the ones actually working there. Nonetheless, some useful tip-offs, and many useless ones, had been heard this way, by him, Hestia, Sturgis or any other member disguised as the fictitious Sid Wilkins for Magical Maintenance.

It had been a very clever idea indeed.

Today, though, his brain was not really in the task. How could he, when it was almost impossible to focus on anything but _her_. Even worse, he did not want to. How strange it was, really, among everything that was happening all around, that he could smile at all. And yet there he was, mopping and whistling and smiling, fantasizing about crossing Tonks' path or even going to her office just to say hello.

Of course it was out of the question, but he was wishing he could nonetheless. Remus sighed, suddenly self-conscious; his entire demeanour was very odd to say the least.

He was not to blame, he thought defensively, making an argument with his own mind. She had hugged him the night before, without an apparent reason, and it had taken Remus completely off guard. Of course everybody was tense and fearing the worse to some extent, all of them were yearning for some sort of comfort in their own particular ways. Had it been just that what had made her crave for human contact? Did she need to be reassured? And yet, even if her gesture had been driven by some sort of anguish, it had been him the one she had chosen to hug. Was it possible that she had been craving for _his_ contact?

He tried to recreate the scene in his mind for the thousandth time. She had said he was a very decent man and she had threw her arms around him, almost as if that was the logic thing for them to do. It had taken him a fraction of a second to realise what was happening and to hug her back.

He understood right away it had been a mistake. The second her scent flooded his senses he was forced to admit once more that he had fallen for her and that there did not seem to be a way back.

So, maybe he was in love with Tonks. What did it meant though? It was almost impossible for him to consider having a chance to be with her. Just by thinking about the way she had acted around him mere weeks ago, when she had feared him and felt disgusted by him, he had to admit the possibility was complete out of his reach. How on earth would she accept him completely?

She would not and it was absolutely pointless to fantasize about it, no matter how nice those thoughts were. They were unproductive and could even be dangerous. He had hardly ever allowed himself to think about a better future because now, after all that had happened to him, he knew better. Why should he start doing it now? And because of one witch he did not even know that well? It was not reasonable.

At some point, while he had been cleaning one of the hallways windows, he had heard steps and voices. He recognised hers at once, walking down the hall in his direction and talking to somebody else.

No matter how hard he would try to convince himself to ignore her, or act just as if she was another member of the order, his heart seemed to be having plans of its own and was now beating madly. Remus could not do thing of course, but continuing with his job. Certainly she would recognise the fake worker she had helped plant inside the Ministry, the one she had even impersonated once or twice, but would she know it was his, Remus' turn today? Would she even react to that?

As a sole response, she gave a small look in his direction, less than a fraction of a second. Looking at her eyes was all he could wish for and nothing else. He was in for a very long shift.

His mind wandered again to the previous night. As usual the boggart had turned into that very familiar white orb, the full moon that would turn his human body and mind into the werewolf's. His greatest fear and yet, for a moment there, right after the orb had vanished, he considered a different fear, a brand new one. Maybe the moon was still the thing that scared him the most, but for the first time he had understood why for Molly, and many others before her, the boggart would take the shape of a particular corpse.

What would happen if somebody from the Order died? What would happen if Tonks died?

With much more force than necessary, Remus put the mop in the bucket, making the lot topple over. Cursing under his breath he vanished the dirty water.

His biggest concern, somehow, was not her physical well-being. She was tough all right, a fine fighter, and even though none of them were free of risk, Remus knew she had a much better chance of surviving than the majority of the members of the Order.

A new fear had formed in his head the second he felt her arms around his torso. He had seen it before, during the first war, so many warriors inside and outside the Ministry, so many torn apart families and individuals… a war would change people and sometimes there was no changing back. And lately, he had seen her, her worried eyes and her face go pale with every piece of bad news and the day before, he had seem some sort of utter desperation in the way she looked, almost as if she was a small girl yearning for comfort.

What would happen if this war started affecting Tonks?

Remus moved to a different floor, waving the fake wand to make the broom clean the dust. The spell felt clumsy but he was getting used to this other piece of wood between his fingers.

Much later, he was walking down the same corridor, the Invisibility Cloak covering him. The effects of the Polyjuice potion had worn off. The Order had decided they would use Sid's form only during daytime, they did not know for how long they would need to use the potion and if they would get another opportunity to get hold of something belonging to the Muggle, something they could use for brewing more.

The corridors were almost empty and much less illuminated. While making his way down to the door he was supposed to guard, he walked pass a couple of late-workers finally going home. It was eerie to be here at night, after seeing all the movement and noise of the daytime.

At some Order meeting many weeks ago, Moody had suggested they would keep somebody guarding the door of the Department of Mysteries day and night. Dumbledore himself had downed the initiative; that would be much too dangerous for the person guarding the place, with workers and Hit-Wizards walking up and down that corridor.

This late, the only thing Remus needed to avoid was Sid Wilkins' colleagues, and they were not particularly keen to make a thorough cleanup in this level.

Remus sat next to the door and, careful not to expose himself, he stretched his arms and shoulders. Taking the short man's shape for such a long period of time made his joints protest. Would that happen to the others as well or was it just a werewolf thing? Would Tonks feel this sort of sore after being morphed for a long time?

And there she was again, wandering in his mind. Remus sighed, his wand at the ready, and leaned his head on the hard stone wall. This entire Tonks situation was getting ridiculous and he needed something else to occupy his mind, urgently.

* * *

**AN: Here my take on a question that had taken me several hours of sleep. How did the Order managed to guard _that _door if it was so difficult to enter the Ministry to begin with? **

**Thank you very much for all your support, you are truly amazing!**


	57. Hurrying away from the Ministry

_September 2__nd__ 1995._

Remus had just emerged from the public toilettes and was hurrying away from the Ministry. He could feel the effects of the small dose of Polyjuice potion wearing off. He had just taken a sip, only to make sure there would not be trouble if somebody would see him going out the Atrium. Other than Hestia, taking his place silently under her own Invisibility cloak, he had not met a living soul.

The morning was cold with a slight mist covering the streets. He took a small piece of cloth off his pocket and, careful not to be seen, tapped it with his wand. The cloak regained his normal size and he put it on, thanking the extra layer and the less conspicuous attire.

He was tired, he wanted to go home, but as usual the most responsible part of his brain was directing his will. He Apparated at the nearby alley of number 12 Grimmauld place, wishing nobody would be there awake so he could leave his report and go home quietly.

The house was silent and dark at the greyish light of the early hours. Remus tiptoed into the sitting room and grabbed some parchment and a quill. The report was succinct, there had not been a thing to comment on, just long hours of waiting for nothing to happen, and it was much better that way.

He was almost inside the kitchen, where he was supposed to leave the message and Moody's Invisibility cloak when he heard it. Somebody was inside, snoring softly. Maybe Sirius had passed out drinking… it did not sound like him though. This was more like heavy breathing, unlike the loud noises he would make.

Remus opened the door and, for a long moment, stood there, without knowing what to do. Tonks had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, on top of several pieces of parchment. A quill had fallen off her fingers and there was a large stain of purple ink mere centimetres from her face.

She looked adorable.

For a wild moment he thought about waking her up, he could talk to her, maybe have breakfast with her before going to bed, maybe even…

Tonks moved her arms a little, pulling them closer to her body and making the stain on the parchment much larger. She seemed to be cold. Without thinking about it, Remus took his own cloak off and trying to be as gentle as possible as to not wake her up, he put it on her shoulders.

Tonks sighed and Remus froze, but she did not wake up.

It was time to leave. If she had fallen asleep in such a particular place, she was obviously too tired, there was no point on trying to wake her up and interrupt the few hours of sleep she was already having. She would get up on her own and seeing the cloak, she might even look for him later in order to give it back. It was a nice perspective.

Tonks sighed again and this time she did stir. Remus could not help but smiling. All his reasoning was meaningless now, the fact that she was waking up was much, much better. She opened her eyes, and for a moment looked at him as if she was trying to be sure she was not asleep anymore.

"Sorry I've woken you up," he said, even though he was not sorry at all.

To have something to do other than just stare at her, he folded Moody's cloak again. Still, he could not help but looking. Her eyes were puffy and her pink hair, flatten at some points, it was an image both fun and endearing.

"You're back," she mumbled, ruffling her hair and making it look even messier, "how long have you been here?"

"I've just arrived," having finished folding and unfolding the cloak twice he realised he had nothing else to do but putting it in place. "You seemed cold, so I covered you. I was hoping you'd continue sleeping." He could not seem to stop babbling though.

Apparently Tonks had not noticed his covering her; she looked around and touched the gray worn-out material with the tips of her fingers.

"Thanks."

"What were you doing here by yourself?" suddenly he was curious, but more than that, he wanted her to keep talking.

"I…" she looked confused for an instant. "I was waiting for you."

That was something Remus could not have expected, not in a million years. Something must have came about, something so urgent Tonks had been tasked to wait for his return.

"For me? Why? What happened?"

Still, she did not looked entirely worried, only beyond tiredness and maybe even sore for sleeping in such a strange position.

"Nothing happened…" she started.

"Did you need to tell me something?"

It was turning into an awkward conversation. Maybe it would be better for him just to go home and let her go to hers. Both needed their sleep desperately.

"Tell you... no! Oh, not at all..." she was looking even more confused now. "I was just waiting for you to come back. I wanted... I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Remus' heart missed a bit or two. _Does she mean that? Had she been waiting for me only… to see if I'm all right? What does this mean?_ But he very well knew what it meant, or at least he hoped he did. And yet, how could he be sure?

"Thank you," he said feeling it was a very lame thing to say.

"No problem."

She was not taking her dark eyes away from his and he felt he could not look away either.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked after what seemed to be years. Remus had to think for a second before realising what she had asked.

"Don't worry. I'll just... I'll get something later." _And now you're throwing away all your chances of having breakfast with her, what is the matter with you?_

"How was your shift?"

"Uneventful." He wished he had something else to tell her, something that would give him a reason to stay longer but suddenly his mind was empty.

"That's great," she said yawning widely.

"Yes, I guess you could say that. How was the meeting?"

_Talking about job. Great, that will certainly move things forward between us._ He was suddenly scared about his own thought. _Moving things forward? Where exactly?_

"The meeting. Right." Tonks was talking fast now and Remus had to make an effort to pay attention. "I almost forgot. For a moment there we though Sturgis was missing."

"Missing?" that was unexpected all right.

"Yeah, you know, because he didn't come to the station this morning and there is the fact that nobody had seen him in about a week."

"That long...?" he tried to think about the last time he had seen Sturgis Podmore. Had it been in a changing of shifts at the Ministry? No, that was many weeks ago. Maybe it was an Order meeting? He could not be sure.

"Mundungus was sent to his flat," Tonks added. "I got his Patronus. The place was empty but there were signs Sturgis had been there not long ago, so probably he just went to do something else..."

_Not Sturgis,_ Remus thought. It was something he would not do.

"It's odd though," she said, echoing his thoughts.

"It is," Remus said. "I know him from the last Order. Although he is not the quickest of wizards during a duel, he was never careless, nor the type to fail on checking in when he had to."

He doubted she had listened to a word. After massaging her neck, she was not rubbing her puffy eyes and yawning. She needed to rest, it was wrong to keep her here babbling for his sake.

"You should go to bed."

She shook her head with energy and then she nodded.

"You're probably right," she admitted reluctantly.

"Come on. Let me take you home." He did not know where had that idea came from, but suddenly is sounded just genius.

"Don't worry," she stood up and almost felt down when tripping with the table. "I can Apparate."

Remus almost laughed out loud. Her being this tired was indeed something funny.

"Hmm. Don't take this the wrong way, Tonks, but I rather side-Apparate you safely to your place. Sleepy as you are, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd splinched."

_Yes, now you worry about her safety. _And about being with her just a tad longer, and Apparating with her, and getting closer to her body and…

"I've never splinched," she was saying with a broad smile and bright eyes, "but I wouldn't want this to be my first time either. Maybe I am too tired."

They walked outside to the Apparition point. He wanted to do something, to say something that would make her laugh but there was something he could not explain, that seemed to be rendering his brain absolutely useless. She had just said she had been waiting for him, she said she had wanted to see he was all right.

They were there. Remus outstretched his arm and Tonks took it.

"Ready?"

She just nodded and both of them were spinning.

A second too soon, they were in front of her flat and Tonks was no longer holding his arm but opening the door. Remus could distinguish a colourful messy interior, he had never been inside but he did not dare to ask if he could.

"Thanks," she said, walking a couple of steps inside. She was facing him, taking his cloak off her shoulders and handing it to him.

_Just keep it_, he wanted to say, but he could not muster the courage.

Finally he put it on, trying to feel some of her scent on it.

"I should go home," he whispered, wishing she would disagree.

"Yeah, you must be very tired."

"Yeah I am," _but it's not important_, "and you must get some rest too."

He could not move, though, and he could not take his eyes off her either. He needed to know, he needed an answer to a question that, otherwise would burn a whole in his brain.

"Why were you waiting for me?"

Tonks looked confused for an instant.

"After we thought Sturgis could be compromised, I got restless. I wanted... I've told you already," words seemed to be costing her some effort. "I needed to know you were alright. I... I really missed you tonight. I just wanted to see you."

_Did you really?_

Her last words had been almost impossible to hear and yet he was sure he had understood them. Was it possible that some of his fantasies had not been so distant from the truth?

"Nobody had ever waited up for me," he said.

"I haven't. I felt asleep, remember?" Tonks was smiling again, and in her good, feisty mood, Remus felt he was about to lose a precious moment to actually said what he had in mind.

He needed to get that moment back. Now was the time.

"That's not what I mean," he forced himself to take a step forward and enter the flat. Now they were just centimetres apart and yet she was not moving. She was just looking at him.

"Well," he added, "good night… or good morning."

Empty words. He did not want to go, he did not want to leave her ever.

"Sleep well," he barely heard her whisper.

"You too."

Almost on her own accord, his hand rose slowly, giving her time to back away and slam the door if she felt like it. She did not move and his hand was on her cheek, his thumb revelling in the softness of her skin. Tonks closed her eyes and her head leaned softly on his palm. That was all he needed her to do.

He was closing the gap now, the tip of his nose softly stroked hers and then there were their lips, exploring one another, barely touching at first.

_Is this really happening?_ Was the last thing Remus could thing before losing himself in the unbelievable feeling of her being so near.

It was not only her lips now, her hands were on his chest and he felt her mouth opening for him to explore. He was going to lose his mind to this woman, or maybe he already had; it did not matter, everything had stopped to be important the moment she had decided she did not mind, the moment she had actually wanted to be with him like this.

The kiss stopped and for a long moment they stayed in silence, looking at each other's eyes, their foreheads touching.

"You look very tired," he said.

"And you've obviously have been avoiding mirrors."

He would have wanted to laugh out loud at the thought that that remark had been done just for him and had been whispered only for him to hear.

"Shall I come back later, then?"

"Yes," she was beaming.

It was too strong a temptation and his lips met hers again.

This kiss was much more intense, he could feel his head spinning, his legs trembling and everything just moving around them, confabulating to make this instant perfect.

"Later," he finally whispered, and his voice was husky.

"Later."

He took one step back and he was outside her threshold again. His eyes had never left hers, he did not want to. With some effort, he took out his wand and, with one last wink, he turned around in the spot and Disapparated.

* * *

**AN: And here it is, finally! Your comments are greatly appreciated.**

**Cheers!**


	58. He was tired all right

He was tired all right but he could not see how on Earth he was supposed to settle down and sleep. His mind had been full of her before; now the skin of his hands seemed to pulse where it had made contact with her body, his senses were full of her scent, in his ears her sighs still echoed and his lips seemed to burn with the memory of hers.

Without allowing himself to think if this was a good idea or not, he called Rhazes, his mother's old owl, who was fast asleep over the kitchen counter. The message was brief and yet, Remus felt it was so full of meaning. He was craving for her touch, for being with her again, for hearing her voice and seeing her smile.

"_I can't stop thinking of you."_

As Rhazes soared out the window, he wished Tonks could read between the lines everything he was yearning to tell her.

Would what had just happened mean for her what it meant for him? Had she really wanted it to happen? Or had it been only a spur-of-the-moment thing?

At the thought, Remus felt his insides freeze.

_Surely she knew what they were doing, wouldn't she?_ He thought, pacing up and down his small flat, suddenly anxious and filled with a very different type of restlessness than the one moments before. _Surely this had meant something for her too, hasn't it?_

Impatient, Remus looked out the window. It was too soon, even if his own wouldn't had been so old, it surely would have taken him much longer to get to Tonks' apartment and back. Would there be a reply?

She must have known, she must have realised what he had wanted to do, what she meant to him, right?

_Right?_

And as that terrible thought that had been so near the surface suddenly emerged, Remus wished he could just undo every event of that morning. What if she did not care about him the way he did about her? What if right after his departures and the imminent arrival if his owl, she had started to realise this had been serious? And a bad idea at that? What if she did not want it? What if she did not want _him_?

He had gone too far, he had crossed some invisible line he knew he should not have to. Hopeless, he looked out the window again to the bright morning, wishing he could summon his owl back before it would reach her. He did not need her to be even more scared of him.

Groaning, Remus plumped on the couch; tiredness seemed to be pressing down on him. Hoping he could put everything aside for a while and empty his mind of her memories and his fears, he closed his eyes.

A moment later he felt a soft weight on his lap. Rhazes had entered silently through the open window and was now looking at him. Remus could swear there was pity in the owl's expression, but he had to let that fantasy go the moment he spotted the small piece of parchment tied to its outstretched leg.

His hands slightly trembling, Remus unfolded it.

"_You make me absurdly happy."_

Something wonderful, warm and powerful seemed to be filling his insides at the sight of those five words. Almost without recognising his own voice, Remus laughed. Scared, Rhazes flew to a distant corner but he did not mind. He was finally feeling his tired body relax, and with a loud sigh, his head was resting on the couch and a moment later he was fast asleep.

The second owl entered through the open window much more loudly than his own and the racket of it colliding with a pile of books on the coffee table, making it fell on the floor, woke Remus up with a start.

He had to shake his head once or twice to make out what was happening around. He had no idea how much time had passed. The light was now entering generously through the window. He realised now he had fallen asleep on the couch, Tonks' brief message clutched in his hand.

An unknown owl was trying to get up, partially crushed under the weight of a book; with a very uncommon air of dignity, Rhazes was looking at the scene from the topmost shelf of a bookcase. It would have been comical, if Remus had not been so eager to see what sort of message this one was. The second owl, though, did not seem to be very collaborative and it took him a moment and several owl treats to persuade it to outstretch its leg. Freed from his task, the bird did not waited for a reply but rocketed through the window.

This note was short too, but the contents made his heart beat faster, he could not help but smile imagining Tonks writing the note.

"_My job stinks, I've just been summoned. See you later. I wish I still had last night's cloak on. I'm missing it, as well as its owner."_

His curiosity felt a little piqued. Tonks was not on duty that day. Had somebody serious happened? For the tone of the note, he could not tell; maybe Tonks did not know. For a wild moment he considered the possibility of Apparating at her flat, she was probably getting ready for work, he could get there and see her…

Still smiling, he shook his head. He could not say if she would like that or not, and she was in a hurry, that was clear. The only course of action, for the time being, seemed to be waiting for her news. And meanwhile, he could as well go to bet and try to finally get some real rest.

* * *

The painting on the door of Tonks' flat was fading at the corners. It was a creamy white, once probably clean. He wondered for how long had this be Tonks' house.

The image of the chameleon Patronus appeared in his mind again. There was something very likable on that creature, but, he had to admit he was biased. Finally Tonks was home and finally she was asking him to come. He had been ready for a while, trying to concentrate on a book while waiting for something like this to happen. Needless to say, he could not say what the book had been about.

_Knock the door already_, he urged himself.

For some strange reason, his fists seemed to be made of lead.

He was nervous, and anxious, and so very eager for that door to open and reveal… it was Tonks, the very same Tonks he had known for a while know, his friend and yet, something else had changed earlier that morning and suddenly, thinking about her was thinking about something else entirely, new, and wonderful and…

His fist seemed to have developed a will on its own and was now knocking loudly.

He could not blame it.

The door opened. Tonks was standing there, her wand drawn, a soft pink flush on her cheeks and Remus felt suddenly terribly self-conscious. He had not time to dwell in any of that; the tip of her wand pointed at his chest without as much of a warning. He could not help but feeling a little resentful towards Mad-Eye and wondering if they would ever have a proper salutation.

"What article of clothing did you give me yesterday?" she was serious and probably ready to strike should he fail to answer correctly, and yet the question was so endearing, so full of memories, he could not help but smile widely.

"That would be a cloak."

She lowered her wand, smiling broadly, and he felt an urge to be much nearer, now that the bureaucracy had been taking care of.

"And it wasn't yesterday," he stepped inside without wanting to waste another moment, "I gave you my cloak earlier today."

"Right," she said, and finally his lips were on hers and, if Remus had still harboured a small amount of doubt on her feelings, she seemed to be determined to make it forget all about it.

He was still curious though, and, according to her message, both of them had work to do.

* * *

"So we were right to be worried, Sturgis had indeed being found by the Ministry," Remus summarised what Tonks had just told him. "And now they have him in custody and he will be interrogated."

"Because they found him _inside_ the Department of Mysteries, that's the funny part."

Even though she had been smiling a moment ago, Tonks was worried, there was no doubt about it. Feeling daring, almost reckless, Remus took her hand in his, almost expecting her to take it off at once. She did not move, but, for a moment, a small smile replaced her concerned expression.

"That was not part of the task," Remus said, trying to take the conversation back to their current predicament.

"Nope. That's why Kingsley suspects Death Eaters had something to do with it."

It was difficult to focus, and yet working with her seemed as easy as it always had been. While scanning the files Tonks had brought with her from the Ministry and discussing several possibilities of what might have happened, Remus could distinctly feel as if his brain, his heart, his entire body had been split in two.

How was it possible for one human being to feel such different things all at once? He was passing from enjoying the soft texture of her skin to fret somebody from inside the Order might have been under the Imperious Course for nobody knew how long; from smiling with her and enjoying the fact that they could be this close, to plan something in order to cover him up inside the Ministry. It was by far the strangest ensemble of things he had ever experienced.

And even though it seemed he could not cope with anything else, a new idea was creeping over him, a third one as intense and complicated as the other two. The moment Tonks had told him she needed to talk to him, something else had started to form in his mind, a fear that had nothing to do with the war or the Order.

He needed to talk to her about it. This was too good, too beautiful, and he was sure he could get lost into all those happy feelings so easily… and then, once she realised…

Both were standing now, the plan to help Sturgis had been sketched and it seemed solid. He needed to be sure, he needed her to tell him…

"Come here," he said softly and a heartbeat later, they were hugging. It all felt so right, logical even, why did he always have to think about the worst possibility?

"You scared me at first," there, he was saying it.

"Because of Sturgis?"

"Not because of him, no." _You don't have a clue, Tonks, of the sort of havoc you can produce in my mind, do you?_

He was not sure of how to continue and she was piercing him with those dark bright eyes.

"Remus?" Was there a small amount of insecurity in her voice too?

He sighed deeply.

"When you said you needed to talk to me. For a moment there, I thought you were having second thoughts."

She was looking genuinely surprised and Remus felt so relieved by that.

"About what?"

"About this, about us."

_This is your chance, Tonks. Now tell me that, yes, you're having second thoughts. Tell me that you want us to take it slower. That we're just good friends. _

There was nothing of the sort in her voice or in her expression.

"Why would I?" she sounded indignant.

How terrible it was to have to talk about this now! From all the things about lycanthropy, maybe the one he hated the most was when, for a reason or other, it had to be present even at moment like this, when the full moon was nowhere to be seen. He hated when it was not only about one day a month.

"I don't think you've realised what implies to be with me. I'm a werewolf."

After all these years Remus felt he should have gotten used to the word and yet, every time it felt as it was the first time he was speaking about it aloud.

"I know that," her arms around her neck, she gave him a little squeeze. "I don't care."

"You did care not long ago." He did not wanted to sound accusing but he felt he was failing.

"Remus," now she had taken a step back, but she was still looking at him. He wished he could knew exactly what was going on in her head. "I was mistaken, I've told you that."

"You have, and I believe you." He could not do it. If she was looking at him like that, he felt it was wrong to put distance between them. For a moment he felt as if it was her the one needing reassurance and he could slap himself for that. With a swift movement, his hands were on her hips again, his eyes meeting hers. "But have you really understood what it implies? For you? As a werewolf I'm dangerous, to say the least, it could be... terrible for you. Besides I'm too old, too‐"

"Stop, stop it right there," her fingers were on his lips and the gesture was so adorable he felt like forgetting all about arguments and caution, and just kiss her. "Don't you think I've already thought about the full moon?" she continued. "You might be dangerous once a month, but I won't be stupid enough to cross your path when that happens. And so you know, I could make you Wolfsbane potion if you'd let me. And for the record, you're not old so take that stupid idea out of your head."

_Can she really brew Wolfsbane for me?_

"I'm serious about it," she said, almost frowning, and his mind forgot all about potions and transformations.

He just needed her there, kissing him like this.

* * *

**AN: I am sorry about the delay, it's good to be back! **

**Many thanks to all your encouraging comments! login password, QueenCobraWing, OneTrueRavenclawHugger (love you nick btw), TeddyTonksRemus, catwalkingowl, roflshvuakomail, tt crews, Blue Luver5000, CharmChaser, Muggle Creator, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, elmo98, Louey06, ., you people are GREAT!**

**Cheers!**


	59. Out of some sort of tacit agreement

Out of some sort of tacit agreement, nobody knew.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix had been discussing once more, with no result whatsoever, what to do about Sturgis' problem and how to avoid further encounters. Finally, Kingsley had ordered to move on and now they were considering the possibilities and strategies for two upcoming missions, absolutely oblivious to the fact that, under the table, Remus and Tonks were holding hands.

And even though this wonderful woman at his side, wanting him, was making Remus feel proud beyond reasonable, for the time being this was something he would rather share just with her. It was not preventing him, though, to recreate every smile, every kiss, every caress they had shared just hours ago. She had groaned aloud when he had reminded him there was indeed an Order meeting, and with laughter in their eyes and yearning for it to be over, they had arrived ten minutes late.

"- we'll just have to search the place," Kingsley was saying, "There might still be some dark artefacts left from the last time. Or even something much more recent."

"We can't," Arthur sighed. "After the disastrous last raid we did on the Malfoy's place they've put us on a very tight leash. I won't be able to get the authorisation again."

"Then we'll just go in while they're out, right?" Tonks suggested, and Remus fought back the wide grin the sound of her voice produced on him. It was strange in a way to see that she was indeed the same, her head in the task and providing with suggestions or witty remarks, but at the same time, she was somebody else entirely. Somebody who had decided to allow him to read into her soul.

"That's where I was heading," Kingsley nodded, fortunately oblivious to the trail Remus' thoughts were wandering onto. "That house is probably one of the most guarded dwellings there is, though, so it won't be easy."

"I can provide whoever gets the task with some info on what we found at the Malfoy's. Maybe it's not that different. Not that we actually found much, but still…" Arthur trailed off.

"Tonks and Remus should do it," Mad-Eye said and he almost startle; it felt as being caught doing something he was not supposed to during a lesson back at school. And it did not escape to Remus the fact that, while the Auror's black eye was looking at Kingsley, his magical one was fixed on the wooden table; more particularly on the spot between Tonks and himself.

_So much for keeping it a secret_, he thought while Tonks' fingers gave his a gentle squeeze. He looked at her but she did not make a gesture of acknowledgment, her eyes fixed on Mad-Eye.

"Piece of cake," she said. "I'll try my best not to break a thing this time, shall I?"

Moody just grunted and his magical eye left the spot on the table.

It struck Remus as weird, though. If the Auror had actually seen through the wood their holding hands, why did he specifically wanted them to work together. Remus would have thought Mad-Eye would prefer exactly the opposite. Would not that go against his famous "constant vigilance" policy?

The meeting finished shortly after and Tonks darted to get the particulars from Arthur. Mad-Eye seemed to be distracted by a map lying on the table. The sole idea of his being diverted was so ludicrous Remus felt the Auror was just waiting for him to talk first. Or maybe some of the paranoia was starting to rub on him…

Still, he was curious about how much Moody had seen and what was he planning on doing with the info, and there was just one way to know.

"Mad-Eye," he cleared his throat, "could I-?"

"Let's see if there isn't any boggarts left on the drawing room, eh? That one from the other day might have breed."

Remus just nodded, and ignoring the urge to point out that boggarts did not breed but were originated, he trailed behind him.

While walking down the corridor, for a wild moment, he considered being nervous about talking to Mad-Eye. He was strongly reminded of the image of having to talk to the very scary father of a new girlfriend for the first time. It was a very silly idea, really, this was Moody, whom he knew since he was very little...

The wand pointing at his throat, right after the door of the drawing door closed, suggested otherwise.

"What on earth are you planning?" Moody's magical and normal eyes were fixed on him and Remus had the impression his brain was being scanned.

"Excuse me?" he said, with as much dignity he could muster.

_Wands? Honestly?_ He would have drawn his as well, had he not being genuinely afraid of what the Auror might try to do if he reached for it. So much for constant vigilance of his part; he had really not seen this one coming.

Hurried footsteps tripping on the last step of the stair and a very rich swear word made him almost smile. Now he was about to be rescued.

Tonks' wand was pointing at Mad-Eye even before she actually entered the room.

"What on the name of Merlin's pants are you two doing?"

"You two?" Remus thought this was the last straw. "Excuse me? Do you see who's wand is being pointed in which direction?"

"_Expeliarmus_!" Moody said, almost lazily.

Tonks wand ricocheted into a dark corner, far away from her grasp. With a swift movement, Moody took her arm and pulled her inside the room, next to Remus.

"What are _you two_ trying to do?" Mad-Eye's wand was now pointing alternatively at their chests and his voice was a hard growl. For a wild moment Remus thought about calling for help.

Finally, after all these years of eccentricities, Mad-Eye had just lost his marbles. What a pity.

"What's to you what we do?" Tonks was retaliating, her eyes bright.

He wanted just to look at her, so intense in her anger, but Moody's wand was hinting they needed to get out the predicament before they would have to sign up for magical eyes themselves.

"I think you're making a mistake here, Mad-Eye." Remus tried to sound reasonable.

"How so?"

"For starters," Tonks said, "why on earth is your wand pointing at us? Let alone all these crap about asking us what _we do_? It's our bloody business what we do and you've nothing to do with it!"

"I can see you might be worried about the Order," Remus continued. "But let me assure you, this is-"

"You're in no position of assuring me a thing, Lupin, don't you see?"

"No, frankly I don't."

"You're barking mad, Mad-Eye," Tonks said.

"And ultimately, what is it what you think we're doing?" Remus added.

"You tell me."

"We're not giving you any explanations," Tonks scorned.

"Maybe we should-" Remus started.

"The hell we should," Tonks said. "I'm not telling him a thing," she pointed her finger at Mad-Eye and, to Remus, it looked as menacing as the Auror's own wand, "until he puts _that_ thing wherever the sun won't catch it. I can stand here for the entire evening if you wish, but I bet that wooden leg will start to hurt in a while."

She crossed her arms and looked at her mentor without blinking. Remus felt that what she had just said bordered the suicidal and that he should add something, but he had not a clue of what. Tonks' idea of waiting did not seem to be a bad one, though, so he crossed his arms as well.

Moody looked at her and then at him. Unexpectedly, he chuckled, and his wand was inside his cloak again.

"Right you are, lass, I'd rather sit," he said, heavily taking a dusty armchair. "Still want that answer though."

"Well, we still want an apology."

"I'm not apologising so, get on explaining and you'll be off."

"Wait," Remus' brain was working again. "What is it that you think it's happening that ought to be explained?"

Both Mad-Eye and Tonks looked at him as if he was joking.

"Honestly," Remus pressed on, "do tell, Mad-Eye, why was your wand pointing at us?"

He sighed.

"I've seen it before, Remus, and you perfectly well know what I'm referring to."

Tonks sat on a sofa and, making an effort to look cheeky, Remus was sure, placed her heavy boots on a coffee table.

"Actually I don't," he said, sitting next to her.

"What is going on between you two?"

"It's ab-so-lu-tely not your business," Tonks said.

"It ab-so-lu-tely is," he replied. "I'm in charge of watching everybody's back, at a lack of somebody else to do it."

"What does it have to-?"

"You two are together, aren't you?" Moody asked.

"Yes, we are," Tonks said and Remus could not help but feel elated with her certainty. And yet, he had something to say about it as well.

"I can't recall you having issues with this sort of thing before. In fact, if I remember correctly, you paid witness to James and Lily's wedding!"

"It's different," Mad-Eye grunted.

"Listen," Remus said, suddenly losing his patience, "if you want me to tell you that I'm serious about this and that I'm not going to hurt Tonks in any way possible, and that I'll care about her… I don't think you have the right to ask. And yet, I'm telling you, she means the world to me and I'll make sure nothing happens to her."

The last thing he would have planned for that sort of confession would be to be blurted out like that in the presence of one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. And yet, there was no doubt he meant every word and it just made him so incredibly happy to actually have a reason to say them. Remus glanced at Tonks; she was beaming at him, her eyes bright.

"Actually," she said with a soft chuckle. "I thought he wanted me to say something like that regarding you. Which, of course, I don't think he has the right to ask."

"Me?" his elations gave way to confusion.

"Haven't you seen how protective he is towards you?" Tonks said, pointing at Mad-Eye with her thumb, as if he were not there.

"No, actually not-" Remus babbled.

"But I'll do it," she continued, "I'm serious about this, all right? Merlin, I've fancied the pants off this man for so long!" Remus wished she had not used that particular image and yet he was enjoying her every word. "And I'm bloody serious about wanting to be with him, and watching his back and… and keep on being the superb Auror I am."

"Don't kid yourself," Moody said.

Tonks' eyes fixed on Remus' for a moment and he could see laughter lingering on them. How he wished to kiss her, right there and then.

"So, could we stop this nonsense so we can go home?" Tonks added.

"Wait," Remus said, "I want to know something, Mad- Eye. If you're all against this, why were you so eager to pair us up for the next mission?"

The old Auror shook his head.

"You haven't got it, none of you have. I'm not against this."

"So now you've taken to take off your wand whenever you like, eh? While sticking your nose into other people's business?" Tonks asked.

Moody decided to ignore her and addressed Remus instead.

"You surely can understand this. You've seen the world. From you," he looked at Tonks," I don't expect much, but Lupin here knows a bit about how things work."

"Well, thanks," Tonks grunted.

"You're welcome. You were right," he was looking at Remus again, "I wanted to know how serious this one, because I'm not entirely sure you realise how this could turn out."

"Do you mean getting hurt or…?"

The atmosphere had suddenly become much more serious.

"Not really that, not exactly. Although, you both know that's a possibility. You were talking about James and Lily, before, you saw how that worked, and I don't mean Voldemort finishing them off, I mean before. They became strong, focused. Their being together brought up the best of them and they learned how to use it. They were quite skilful before, but later on they became very powerful warriors."

The idea of Mad-Eye being crazy had fled Remus' mind as fast as it had came in the first place. He recalled images of his late friends and, for once, they were not the ones of his childhood, or those others of their death and the days afterwards. He could see them inside the Order, almost working as one, taking a lot in the fights and giving more than what everybody could have expected. Even confronting Voldemort himself and getting away barely scratched. Moody was right, they became better together.

"It doesn't always happen, though," the Auror continued. "Sometimes it's just a distraction, something extra to think about, a burden. And since I've got to keep an eye on everybody around here, I want you to be aware of what this is. You need to be responsible, attentive, you need to realise what sort of thing you've got here between you."

"I've never looked at it like that," Remus said slowly.

"You've never realised it could be you," Mad-Eye said and Remus knew that was only too true. "But now," the Auror looked at both of them and he could see Tonks had lost all her cheeky demeanour and was drinking her master's every word, "now you have to realise how powerful you might get, now that you're together."

Standing up with another grunt, he limped towards the door. Remus felt he could not move and, at his side, Tonks was barely breathing.

"Good luck in that mission," Moody called at his back.


	60. Tonks circled the house for the 3rd time

Tonks circled the house for the third time that afternoon, and Remus could see she was focusing on every little detail of it. None of them could see the back yard, but they would have to do without that piece of information. It was a big house, with two entrances and even a garage, right in the middle of a fancy neighbourhood in London.

"Not at all the place you would expect to find Death Eaters, isn't it?" she told Remus who was now trying to peek over the side door.

"No, it isn't. But it would not be the first time either."

He shook his head.

"This entrance would not do," he added. "This is where the house-elf is most likely to be."

"I know," Tonks added. "And the front door is of no good either. Too visible. There's that police officer pacing up and down the street, almost as if he was actually guarding the place. I wouldn't want to risk hexing him."

"Are you sure he's a Muggle?" Remus asked.

"I can't be completely sure, but he seems to be one all right."

Remus shook his head again. It was indeed a very curious setting for the Nott's house to be.

"I think we've seen enough of this."

He took Tonks' hand and pulled her slightly up. Both their heads emerged from the Pensieve.

"It was a very nice recollection," Remus said. "Especially considering you've only been there for just a moment, and passing by."

Tonks shrugged.

"I've learned to do it with Mad-Eye. You wouldn't want to leave blank spots on a memory he was going to examine. Too bad I couldn't levitate a bit and get to the back of the house."

Tonks had Morphed into a sporty looking woman and had gone jogging just hours ago to the spot Arthur Weasley had pointed out, the location for their next mission. At the beginning both of them had thought he had gotten the address wrong, for how could a known Death Eater live in such a non-magical neighbourhood.

Something about that was disturbing Remus and he felt he ought to know exactly what was behind it, but so far he had not been able to put his finger on it.

"So, how do we get in?" Tonks' voice took him out of his musings.

"No doors."

"Unless you'd like to drive in the Muggle way," she said with a cheeky smile.

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Remus smiled back at her, considering for a moment how different it all seemed now that they were sharing much more than just missions and Order meetings. "We have to keep the amount of spells to a minimum, we don't know if they track the place now and then to see traces of magic other than theirs."

"What about the roof?" She said, "look at it, it has a flat surface right on the top, we could Apparate up there."

Remus dived into the grey substance in the Pensieve once more to see the place. Yes, the top of the roof was flat indeed although it provided a very narrow path. And then?

He came back from Tonks' memory again.

"Then we could use a window or one of the balconies at the front. We'd have to cast Disillusionment charms on us, but I think it'll work," she continued.

"I'm still concerned about that house-elf. Even if all of them go away-"

"Which they do every morning-"

"The elf would be there and they are very tricky to confound, way too protected for that. We'll need a diversion."

Tonks nodded. For a moment none of them spoke.

"You're expecting me to come up with an idea?" she finally asked, her voice ringing with amusement.

"Aren't you the Auror?" he said, playing along.

She rolled her eyes at him but he could tell her exasperation was pretended.

"What would you do if you were to enter the place on your own?" he asked.

"I guess I'd improvise."

Remus chuckled.

"And does Moody know that you use that technique?"

"He's the one who thought me."

Remus looked at the parchments Arthur had given him, they were full with trivial information about the Nott family. Tonks had added a fresh parchment of her own. Nothing there said a thing that would give Remus something in the lines of a brainwave.

"Let's just go there," Tonks sighed. "And cause havoc. I'll just smash the china or, if they have some, set the poultry free, I don't know, something that would keep that elf busy for a moment. It just has to be casual."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"You don't think like that," suddenly her voice was stern and her eyes were fixed on his. "I bet it's usually a great possibility things won't go as planned, but you just can't over think it all the time, or you won't do a thing."

* * *

It turned out Tonks' improvised havoc of a diversion was the easy part of the plan. Keeping her from falling off the roof, not that much. Just in what seemed like the last second, Remus managed to blindly grope what looked like thin air and get hold of her elbow. Her Disillusionment charm was perfect, he could barely distinguish her contours.

Without as much as a recognition for what he thought was plainly saving her for breaking her neck, he could hear she was slowly walking towards the farthest edge of the roof. A moment later, an impressive crashing sound, followed by loud clanging, made Remus almost jump.

"Let's go," he hear Tonks whisper at his side and less than a second later, he could feel her body brushing against his.

"The window?" he asked,

"Yeah," she murmured.

He pointed his wand at the closest one and a moment later, the window pane was heaving very slowly. Remus was certain whatever Tonks had caused on the ground floor would keep the elf busy for a moment; as a matter of fact he could still hear something clanging. He did not want to risk the sound of a badly oiled window to give them away.

Finally the opening was big enough for them to enter.

"Go on," he whispered to where he thought Tonks was, even though he suspected she was already on her way through.

Remus waited for a couple of seconds and then he entered the open window. The first thing he noticed was that Tonks was now perfectly visible. With the tip of his wand, he revealed himself and then, pointing at the door, he casted a muffling spell. The room they were into seemed to be used as a guest bedroom.

"What was that down there?" he asked.

"I'm not quite sure, I just pointed at the second entrance. There was a shed and I think it was full of cauldrons."

"But what exactly...?"

"I vanished all the shelves and made them appear again at once. It'll take that poor elf half a lifetime to sort it all out."

"Let's go to the first floor," Remus pointed to the door. This room doesn't seem to be holding much.

Just in case he made a sweeping movement with his wand, trying to recognise some trace of magic or hidden objects. Apparently there was nothing.

"Are we quite sure this is the place?" Tonks voiced out his own fears.

Was it? Remus could not tell. It all looked too normal, or too abnormally so, as a matter of fact.

"Come on," he said, "there are plenty of rooms downstairs."

Half an hour later, though, and an extra vanishing spell from Tonks, they had to admit it was the most Muggle of all the dwellings they had been to.

"It even beats the house of Harry's relatives," Tonks huffed. "Now I'm starting to doubt there is a house-elf after all. Maybe I've just scared the skin out of some poor housekeeper working for a very wealthy and regular Muggle family."

They were now down the basement, which was full of card boxes and plastic containers, nothing there spoke about anything unusual. The people living in the house were called Nott all right, but, as Tonks had pointed out, it was not the strangest of last names in the world.

Remus was now looking at some documents into one of the boxes. Theodore Nott was apparently a banker, and a very good one at it. There were several account balances showing a constant increasing in his income. He could not help but feel a pang of resentment.

Apparently bored of perusing through Muggle documents, Tonks was now moving one box after another. Some of them were filled with old china and Remus saw her casting one spell or other to them. There was no reaction, they were just plain porcelain cups and saucers. It was indeed unnerving.

Only, there were just too many of them.

"Wait a moment," Remus said. Tonks stopped in mid-track, about to replace a very ugly vase inside one of the boxes. "This can't be all, can it?"

"What are you-?"

"I reckon there is another room," he felt foolish. They had been searching the place just as if it was what it looked like, a Muggle dwelling. And yet, couldn't they have just expanded it?

"Where? Next to this?" Tonks was looking around, quickly levitating the boxes in order to see the wall.

Remus helped with his own wand, but after a moment they had to admit the walls were as bare as one could expect from a regular basement.

"I thought that was it," Tonks huffed, sitting heavily into one of the boxes.

"Me too... I guess we would have to just..."

And suddenly the idea came to him again. He knew how the place worked. He had even seen something of the sort in number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"It's downstairs," he said slowly.

Tonks beamed.

"You're right, we need to find the trapdoor."

Now they moved the boxes even quicker. The floor looked just the same everywhere but Remus knew better as to be fooled by that. He waved his wand a couple of times and Tonks pointed at a bluish spot that had showed for a moment in one corner of the room.

"I think it's there," she whispered.

Even thought the material seemed to be the same type of concrete as the rest of the floor, Remus thought it felt like wood. Carefully, he pushed and pulled on it until he felt something like a hood. He pulled the trapdoor open while Tonks illuminated the way with her wand. It was a spiral stone staircase descending to yet another level underground.

"You're a genius," she whispered, and he felt something warm and very pleasant.

"The Muggle theory is ruled out then," he said, trying not to show just how pleased with himself and with her admiration he was.

"It is," she said, starting to climb down the staircase, the tip of her wand illuminating the way. Remus followed suit.

It was a very large cellar; the walls were covered with shelves carrying several rolls of parchment. An assortment of various objects filled one side of the room, and Remus thought some of them looked as if they belonged to Knockturn Alley. Right at the foot of the stair, more boxes just like the ones they saw outside, were aligned in perfect order.

Remus opened the one nearest them, it contained what seemed to be a handful of blank pieces of parchment.

Tonks was looking at it too.

"That's the oldest trick in the book," she said, taking the sheet out of Remus' hand. She tapped it with her wand several times, murmured things under her breath. Finally, some silver letters seemed to be writing themselves on the surface of the parchment.

"They are recruiting," Remus whispered, taking in the words that would practically command whoever read them to join the Dark Lord into what was to be 'the final ascent of Wizardkind' according to the letter.

"They can't just hand these over to people, can you imagine if somebody was to be found with one of these in their power?"

"I don't think this is meant for everybody, these are no leaflets. I think they're just for some people, carefully chosen."

Tonks looked at the second box. The parchments inside it seemed to be blank for real, or protected with a different incantation, for she could not make words appear there.

"So the Nott's are recruiting, or something like that," she talked slowly. "But it doesn't explain why do they life here of all places. I can't imagine, let's say, any of my relatives wanting to set foot into this neighbourhood."

Remus had to admit neither could he; and yet there was that funny idea, again trying to form inside his head.

"Surely not," he said, now trying to analyse the objects on the room without touching them.

"Surely not what?"

He approached a cauldron placed on a wooden table. Next to it were several phials containing potion ingredients, and some small bottles filled with some sort of yellowish gas.

Tonks took one of them in order to look at its contents closer.

"Don't open it," Remus warned, suddenly realising what it could be. It just made everything clear now.

"I wasn't going to," Tonks said indignantly. "Although I don't know what it is..."

"They're farming Muggles," Remus muttered. A flow of old storied read in books or told by older Wizards and even Sirius came into his mind.

"Farming...?" Tonks looked at him, puzzled.

"That's what people called it many years ago. It was even quite a respectable practice not very long ago, and if I'm not mistaken your Auntie Walburga used to practice it. Wizards using Muggles, you see," he pointed out, seeing her still puzzled expression. "They can make them do all sort of stuff for them."

"Like that police officer outside."

"Yes."

"Is he imperiused? He can't be, that's an unforgivable-!"

"Nah, I don't think they'll risk Azkaban just in order to make their life easier. They use this," Remus pointed at the yellowish gas. "Potions, brewed gases, or they might just charm their way into the Muggles by telling some lies..."

"And people used to do that..." Tonks said thoughtfully.

"It wasn't legal, mind you, only tolerated."

She looked at the rolls of parchments, almost as if she too had a magic eye and could see through them.

"It's all sorts of wrong," she finally said and Remus was surprised on how hard her voice could sound. She was frowning slightly and, for a second, he was reminded of when they met and she had a wand pointing at his chest.

"It is..."

"And so subtle," she seemed not to be listening to him. "I mean, I know so many Wizards and Witches that would not hesitate in casting a Confundus charm on a Muggle just to get away with something... nothing big, mind you, just silly stuff."

Remus did not know what to say. It was beautiful to feel outraged at the thought but then again, just thinking about it in those terms could make anybody boil with indignation.

"Well, now we know exactly what they do," he tried to change the subject.

Tonks nodded.

"But we can't report them," she said. "I hate what they're doing, but it would be much more useful to just keep an eye on them. See who they're talking to."

"Track them," Remus nodded, glad that her reflections on ethics seemed to have stopped, at least for the time being. He knew only too well how that sort of thoughts could become obsessive.

"Yeah... because, if their using Muggles, their reach could be so much broader..."

* * *

**AN: I'm not thrilled with how this chapter has turned out but I needed to do something to fight the writer's block. So sorry about keeping you waiting this long and cheers from beautiful London! **

**(You'd think that, being here, ideas would just flow out of my pen but they just won't)**

**Thanks a lot for reading and reviewing!**


	61. He did not mind having to track somebody

_September 7th 1995._

He did not mind having to track somebody. Of course, with the years, and especially during the first war, Remus had learned that there were things he just had to do, and what he would possible feel or think about that ended up being irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

However, following somebody was among the tasks he actually enjoyed. It required skill, patience, and sometimes even a tad of improvisation. And was good at that, he had to admit it.

Some metres ahead of him, Monroe was navigating the busy streets of the west end in a way that seemed to be absolutely random. Maybe it was, and he was just enjoying a lazy walk. Or maybe he was trying to shake off somebody tailing him? Considering his brisk pace, Remus was almost convinced it was the second option.

Around a corner they went, through an alleyway, and across a square; the suspect did not seem to have a specific target. He stopped at a red traffic light and Remus did as well, allowing a bunch of tourists to stand between them.

Something he could not really explain made him turn back. A group of teens was standing there, waiting for the light to change as well. They looked like regular Muggles and yet, Remus thought, looking at Monroe's back again, what had made him fell this uneasy?

His pray seemed to have changed his mind and instead of crossing the street, he turned left. Smiling slightly, Remus did crossed, trying to be clearly visible and, right when reaching the other side, he submerged amongst the chatty tourists. Across the street, Monroe just kept on walking, still in clear sight.

Behind him, a kid wearing very large headphones around his neck seemed to doubt for a second, and then he walked in the same direction as well, with a nervous demeanour that made Remus wonder on passing where could that kid be heading to. Monroe was walking faster now and some minutes later, he entered a pub in a corner of a smaller street. Remus kept on walking, his mind racing, reaching for reasons behind this man behaviour. Was this a meeting place?

The pub had only one entrance, and several wooden tables outside. Trying to look as casual as possible, Remus crossed the street again and walked right into a nearby alley. As he had suspected, there was another door to the pub, a backdoor with a dirty sign plastered on it: "Personnel only". Remus looked around to check that he was indeed alone. The kid he had just seen before just passed by the alley entrance and kept on walking. It was now deserted.

Carefully, Remus pointed this wand, hidden on his sleeve, to the door and sealed it. Just in case he was aiming to give somebody the slip, Monroe would just have to use the front door to get outside the pub now.

Remus got outside the alley and crossed the street again. There was an almost empty cafe and he took a sit near one of the windows; he had a clear view of the now only way in and out o the pub. He could not make out what was happening in there, but he could not risk entering. If that had been a chosen place for a meeting, he would have to find out using other methods.

Still, something was wrong. He looked around; there was that feeling he could not get rid of, that sort of restlessness. What had happened, what was happening that was making him feel so strange? In the nearest occupied table, a woman was eating a sandwich and scribbling on a notebook, on the counter an old lady was ordering muffins. He could not remember having seen any of them before.

Some time passed. Through one of the dark windows of the pub, Remus could distinguish a silhouette he was almost sure was Monroe's, drinking something at the bar. Apparently the only reason he had gotten into that particular place was to get a pint. He was about to ask for a second coffee when he saw him standing up and heading to the exit. Remus waited until the suspect was half a block ahead and then, dropping some Muggle money on the table, he stood up and followed.

Out of the corner of his eye, he registered somebody else exiting the convenience store nearby and he wished he could turn around and properly take a look at whoever it was. He did not; it was odd, something did not felt right and he felt now was really important to act as normal as possible.

Monroe, and him at a safe distance, walked for another couple of blocks. It seems now that he was heading towards Charing Cross Road but Remus' mind was no longer into the chase. _He_ was being followed as well, he was almost sure of it now.

It took Remus less than a moment to decide what to do. He had being tasked with following Monroe and find out to what extend was he still in contact with known former Death Eaters but he was now much more interested on what would somebody follow him... or Monroe. He was not to discard the possibility that this unknown person might be there for the same reasons as him.

He had to act quickly, he had to find out who was that unknown third party following. If he was to lose Monroe, he would just have to try to follow him on another time. Plus, he was almost sure Monroe was heading to the Leaky Cauldron, that would mean he would probably Disapparate and it would be much trickier for Remus to continue his pursuit.

Few metres ahead there was the entrance to another narrow alleyway. Without as much as a gesture, Remus headed there in the last second and immediately hid next to the entrance of a house. It was not a perfect hideout place, but it might just be enough to surprise the person following him, if he was indeed the target and not Monroe. If he was not, he would just see the stranger pass by and he would be able to follow the two of them.

Somebody else entered the alley and stopped. Remus had to risk it. A second later, he jumped in front of the stranger and pushed him against the brick wall, his hand on his throat.

"Why are you following me? Who are you?"

He recognised him now, the kid with large headphones he had seen earlier. On a closer look he looked very young, barely out of school, and very skinny.

"Let go, mate, what's your problem?" he tried to move but Remus pressed him harder against the wall, hoping with all his soul he was not making a mistake and scaring the life out of the kid.

"You've been following me," he said calmly, almost as if he were explaining something to a student. "For many blocks now. And I want to know why."

"_You_'ve been following that bloke over there," the kid said with a hint of bravado that could not successfully hid the fear in his eyes.

Remus did not say a thing but held his gaze. The kid looked back for a moment and then, he glanced down at his feet.

Suddenly, the kid's hand tried to reach an inside pocket on his jacket, Remus could get a glimpse of a wand before, with a fastest gesture, he pointed his own at the kid's throat.

"I would not even try that if I were you."

So this was a wizard kid, there was no doubt, despite of his looking like a regular Muggle. For a moment it seemed he was going to try to push Remus and free himself off his grip but he seemed to think better of that and his arms felt limp at his sides.

"You one of them, then?" he asked after a moment.

"What is it that you want," Remus tried for his voice to sound as cold and calm as possible.

"I want to join, all right?"

"To join what exactly?"

The kid's eyes darted from Remus' eyes to his wand and to the entrance of the Alley. Remus wondered if he was alone or if he was just waiting for some backup. Somehow he did not think the last one was a real option.

"I've heard the rumours," the kid spoke again. "I have a sister at school, at Hogwarts, and she told me the crackpot stories that bloke Potter's been telling around. And that old fool Dumbledore as well. She thinks it's just bollocks but I reckon they're not. He'll be back and I want to join."

Something chilly seemed to be running down Remus' spine. Surely the kid did not mean...

"What is it that you want to join exactly?" he asked again.

"You know..." the kid was now looking confused. "I want to join _him_."

"Why?" he tried hard for his voice to keep on sounding calm.

"Come off it," the kid this time really gave him a small push, but immediately seemed to regret it. "I mean," his tone was now a little subdued. "I think he's right. I'm tired to hide from them Muggles, I'm tired of not being able to... you know... do things. We're surrounded by scum all over, I want to get rid of it."

"Why following me?"

"I wasn't following you," the kid almost scorned. "I've been following that bloke for days now. And today I saw _you_ getting in the way."

"Why following him then?"

"What's with the questions? Go ask your pal if you want to know that much."

Remus was getting tired.

"Listen to me, mate," he said, pushing the kid harder against the wall and making the tip of his wand a little more visible. He was not planning on doing something to him, he just needed to scare him a bit. "I'm asking you and I want answers from you."

The kid shrunk a little.

"It's the only one I could find. That guy, Monroe, works with my dad. I know he's pals with Yaxley, but my dad wouldn't let me talk to neither of them. He doesn't want me to join. So I've been following Monroe, because I don't know how to find the Yaxley, maybe they'll meet and I'll be able to talk to him directly."

Remus sighed. The situation was worse than he thought it was, but at least he had now one piece of certain information. He know knew exactly with whom Monroe had been in contact before.

What could he do now? How was he to convince this kid he was running headlong into a certain death? Not to mention what they would make him do even before that, what they would turn him into even before he would get marked as a Death Eater.

"Who are you?" the kid asked. "You're not Ministry."

"I'm not," Remus shook his head.

For a moment he considered taking him to Dumbledore, but that would be just admitting that not only he was not a Death Eater as well, but that he was actively fighting against them. What would happen if this kid would somehow pass that information back to somebody? One of the successes of the Order of the Phoenix right then was the fact that people were not certain it had been reformed and it had made very clear to everybody that the situation should remain like that for as long as possible. No, he could not tell him a thing.

"Will you take me to them, then?" the kid suddenly asked, apparently deciding that Remus had to be associated to the Death Eaters as well. Now he sounded just hopeful, almost like a child.

"How old are you?" Remus was suddenly interested.

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

"I'm nineteen."

At that age, Remus thought, he was already a member of the first Order of the Phoenix. Apparently, one was never too young to start believing and fighting for one's beliefs... or for other's.

"What's your name, kid?" he said, losing his grip a little.

He doubted for a second before answering.

"Jonah... Manning."

"Isn't there something else you'd rather do instead of joining... him, Jonah?"

The kid looked puzzled.

"Wouldn't you want me to join? Aren't you looking for followers?"

Remus shook his head.

"You don't have any idea of what you're getting yourself into, boy." He felt very old saying this, patronising almost, and yet it was so very true.

"You're wrong. I know what I'm getting into. It's what I want, it's what we need," his eyes were now bright and Remus felt sorry for him.

He was not going to take him to Dumbledore, nor he was going to report it to the Order. He was too young, really. He, Remus, had been too young as well when he had started. Suddenly he thought about Tonks and grimly he realised she was only a few years older than this kid. This sort of real life should not start like that for anybody.

"I do hope you find what you're looking for," Remus murmured, making up his mind, "somewhere else."

He pointed his wand at the Jonah's temple and before the kid realised what was happening, he casted the incantation.

"_Obliviate_!"

It took him a moment to erase the correct memories and to plant some new ones that, hopefully, would keep the kid away from the Dark Lord's path. The kid's expression went blank for a moment and Remus let him go. He eyes looked normal again.

"Thanks for pointing me to the right direction," Remus said nonchalantly, his wand hidden on his sleeve again. "I shall find it now."

"Cheers!" said the kid, looking a little confused.

"Take care," Remus said, walking away and hoping that, really, he would do so.

* * *

**AN: So... random question, has anybody seen "We will rock you"? Don't you think Scaramouche is a bit like Tonks? Never mind my rambling, thanks a lot for reading!**

**Cheers!**


	62. Remus kept on walking for a long time

_September 7__th__ 1995._

Remus kept on walking for a long time after exiting the alleyway. He had only paused at a small shop to see Jonah walking out as well and slowly heading into another direction. The only think he could do know was hope that the spell had come out all right.

Distracted with his own thoughts, he had not been paying attention to his surroundings, now he recognised where he was. He had walked here with Tonks that night, so long ago; without realising how, he was back at her neighbourhood and the bright red door that opened to the flights of stairs that ended into her flat was only meters ahead.

Why had he chosen to come here in the first place? His feet just seemed to have a mind of their own.

He approached the door and, looking hastily at both sides of the street and making sure there was nobody, he tapped the handle with his wand. It opened and he hesitated before climbing the stairs. What was he intending to do? Just knock at her door and invite himself in? Say that he just came for a quick hello and leave?

Tonks was an Auror, though, and she could help him with what he had just learned about the kid who had wanted to join the Death Eaters. He could just ask her and maybe gain some information that would help him later.

Lost in his thoughts he had climbed the stairs and was not at the topmost step, facing Tonks' closed door. Again, he hesitated for a moment. Should he just go on and knock? Arrive there unannounced?

He had not seen Tonks in the entire day and he missed her, that was the truth, even though he was trying to convince himself he only wanted to ask her if she knew, if she had read something about the Mannings on the Aurors' Archives because he could not place them at all. But there was no need to ask her now, he could wait until the next day. Was it really this important as to call at her door this late?

Before his own questions could make him turn around and leave, he knocked, wishing, hoping he would not be crossing some invisible boundaries he did not know about.

A moment later, Tonks opened the door. She was wearing a very large t-shirt Remus supposed was her pyjamas, and her purple hair look a little dishevelled. The smile on her the moment she saw him, though, spoke volumes about how those boundaries he had been fearing he was crossing were pretty far away or, maybe, they were just a product of his imagination.

There was no room for such musings.

"I'm sorry I came without notice..."

"Bollocks," she said, and a second later she was kissing him and he realised, as he took her in his arms, that it had been this, her, more than anything else what he had been looking for.

Without knowing how, they were now inside of her flat.

"I wanted to ask you about-"

"Have you eaten?" Tonks cut across, hastily picking clothes off her couch and disappearing into her room with them. Remus could not help but notice that her flat had been much tidier the last time he had been there... the only time, as a matter of fact. "I just ordered a ridiculously large amount of Chinese food," she called at her back, "should be here any minute now. Want some?"

"That would be nice," he said, curiously looking at the strange mixture of books, rolls of parchment and half-empty cups on the coffee table. "Do you need some help with-?"

She was back in the living room, and Remus could not fail but notice she seemed to be a little bit flustered.

"I'm sorry about the mess," she said, looking at her feet.

"Don't apologise, I should have told you I was coming."

"Don't," she said, approaching him and taking both his hands. "You don't need to tell me that you're coming. You just come, whenever you feel like it. That's to say, of you don't mind the occasional mess..." she trailed off, looking at her feet again.

"I don't", he said, bending over to kiss her again. "Do you want some help with those mugs?"

"Oh... all right then."

The kitchen was much cleaner; Remus levitated the mugs and, with a flick of his wand, let them washing themselves. Back in the sitting room, Tonks had managed to vanish the parchments and the books were now piled more or less neatly.

"See? I've found the coffee table," she said smiling broadly.

"That's good news."

"So you wanted to ask me something...?" she asked, taking a sit on the sofa and tapping it at her side, motioning him to sit there.

"Yea, it's about the mission."

"How was it?"

Remus thought for a moment.

"It... it was a fiasco, as a matter of fact," he accompanied his words with a grim smile.

"How so?"

"Have you ever heard something about somebody named Manning?" he finally sat on the sofa, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. Of course the mission was important, and the answer Tonks could give to that question could open a large number of possibilities... and yet there was something calming, soothing in her presence. He could almost convince himself it was all right.

Tonks looked thoughtful for a moment

A loud knocking at the door made him startle. She practically ran to the door, fishing something off her pockets.

"Food," she explained.

At the other side, a boy was carrying three large plastic bags. Tonks took them, paid him and closed the door but Remus did not help to notice the curious look he had given in his direction. He did not know how to feel about that, but it was not really unpleasant.

"Hope you're hungry," Tonks started putting white steaming boxes on the coffee table.

"Where you expecting somebody?" Remus suddenly feared, looking at the many parcels.

"Nah," Tonks sat back at his side and handed him chopsticks. "I just like to order loads of this stuff and then I keep on eating it for the rest of the week... at least until the spring rolls start growing hairy legs and I have to chase them out..."she trailed off, her eyes bright with mischief. "I'm joking by the way, tuck in!"

He liked her being so cheery, it certainly was a relief from being inside his own thoughts.

"So you were asking me about the Mannings," she said between mouthfuls. "I don't think I've ever heard of them. Not that I remember every name I've read or heard, mind you, only those of the people who's done really weird things."

"So, no weird things associated with them?"

"Nope, but what do they have to do with Monroe?"

Remus told her what had just happened hours ago, his following of the suspect and his realisation of him being followed as well by the young Jonah Manning.

"And what did you do after he admitted he was after Monroe to become a Death Eater?" it appears that Tonks had forgotten she was hungry. For a long moment now her chopsticks had been hovering over her bock but she had stopped eating.

"That's when I think it all went wrong... I did something...," he took a deep breath, "... I'm not entirely proud of."

"What could you have possibly done?" she was looking at him without blinking and he wished he had something different to tell her.

"I modified his memory, wiped the whole idea off."

Tonks just looked at him without blinking and then she put the box and the sticks on the table with a sigh. Remus wished for a moment he could read her mind.

"I would've never thought about that... not in a million years."

"I know it's not...," Remus said sheepishly. It was not what? Ethical? Right? Fair? Useful? He remembered their talk of few days ago about abusing magic with Muggles. How different had this been from that situation, really?

"It's brilliant!" she said with awe in her voice.

"Excuse me?" that was certainly unexpected.

"It's just... I don't know, what else could you've done?"

Remus shrugged.

"That's what I thought back then. I couldn't send him to us, or Dumbledore-"

"For all that you know, he could've been a spy."

"Didn't look like it, though."

"They never do," Tonks took her food again and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls with a thoughtful expression. "And you couldn't just let him join them! He would've been killed, maybe even by yourself! It was sending him to die, just like that."

Remus did not know what to say, he was almost waiting for some disappointment to show on her face, but she was just frowning a little.

"I wish I had the guts to do something like that," she finally said.

"You can't possibly be serious."

"I am, absolutely. It's cunning-"

"It's illegal..."

"It worked..."

"I don't know that..."

"Come off it, there's no way such a spell performed by _you_ could have gone wrong!"

Despite himself, Remus felt some sort of pride at her words.

"Would you mind looking for the Mannings in the Archives for me?"

"Not at all," she said, leaving the box on the table again and placing her hand on his knee. "Do you want me to go right now and check?"

Remus smiled and shook his head.

"Of course not," he leaved his food on the table as well and placed his hand on hers. "This can wait... I wanted to ask you though, if the name did rang a bell."

"And that's the only reason why you came?" she asked, with a knowing smile.

With his thumb, he caressed her cheek.

"I didn't know if I would find you and I didn't know if it would be all right to come..."

"I've told you, it's always all right for you to come."

"Now I know," he said, getting closer and enjoying the anticipation of a long awaited kiss.

She was kissing him back, opening her mouth for him to explore it; he pushed her gently on the sofa, enjoying their being so close and the way she sighed against his lips. His hands started exploring her body, her thigh, her waist, her shirt ran up her back and he took pleasure in the feeling of the bare skin of her back.

Taken by a sudden urge, he started kissing her neck and when she whispered his name he thought he would lose control. He needed her, he needed them to be together. Her hands started unbuttoning his shirt, he could feel her breathing quickening; knowing that this beautiful, extraordinary woman was there, willing to accept him just the way he was, was much more than he could have ever wished for.

At some point she pushed him softly.

"Bedroom," she murmured, breaking just briefly the kiss they were sharing.

After that, Remus could not remember who had done what and when had they started to sigh each other's names between ragged breathing and caresses. When she finally collapsed on him he just wished for time to stop so they could stay like that for as long as possible.

"Remus?" she whispered after a while.

"Hmm?"

"I've told you not to call me Nymphadora," she said with a sigh that could not hide her satisfaction.

"You didn't seem to mind a moment ago."

She chuckled and he could feel the vibration of her chest against his.

"Well I did," moving to snuggle at his side.

"No, you didn't."

She did not answer and Remus could not help but smiling broadly at the thought that, maybe for once, he might have won that argument. Her sliding her leg between his distracted him from it.

"You know," she spoke again, "we never said a thing... are we going to talk about it?"

"To talk about-?" Remus' tried hard not to sound as sleepy as he was starting to feel.

"The Moody-shaped elephant on the room." Tonks prompted, heaving on one elbow to better looked at him.

Her hair dishevelled and that mischievous smile made him want to forget what she was saying and just kiss her again and again. He did once, but he was starting to feel curious.

"What were you saying about Moody?"

"You know..." Tonks sounded somewhat insecure now. "Right after he'd gone crackers, that bit when he talked about the possibility of us being powerful together..." she trailed off.

"I think that what just happened was pretty powerful," he said without being able to stop smiling.

She chuckled again.

"I won't disagree with that," this time she was the one kissing him, but when she pulled back, Remus could see the start of a frown.

"What exactly are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Do you think we'll get there? Are we stronger together?"

He had thought about that all right, much more than he would care to admit. Images of James and Lily had recently haunted his dreams and he was both scared and marvelled at the possibility that he might have something that could be a fraction of what they had, and just a fraction would be so much more than what he would had expected to have.

He moved her arm a little for her to snuggle comfortably at his side, and wondered at how perfectly their bodies seem to fit.

"If you want to think about it with logic, we're a team and, in these cases, teams are usually better than working on your own."

"That makes sense."

"But then again, I think there is something else..."

"I hope there is, because, following your logic, it would be the same teaming up with you than with, let's say, Mundungus..."

Remus laughed at the idea, even though in their present condition it was a little disturbing.

"Please, could we not mention him while being in bed?"

"Agreed," she said with a laugh. "What were you going to say?"

"I think that what Moody meant is that we will look after each other and that will make us give all what we have when we're out there..."

"... Because I'll be trying to protect you and you'll be doing the same."

"Something like that, yes," he concluded, although there was something else on his mind, something he was not sure he was ready to say or she was ready to hear.

He cared about the members of the Order and, giving the occasion, he would do whatever in his power to protect them. He was sure, though, that what he was starting to feel about Tonks was something entirely much more powerful. For her, he though, he would not only do whatever in his power, he would go further beyond that.

"Can I ask you something else?" Tonks spoke again and again there was a little insecurity in her voice.

"Of course," he said, playing with the tips of her hair.

She moved her head to look at him and he smiled at how close their were.

"I don't know how to say this, so please, don't take it the wrong way, all right?"

Something unpleasant seemed to be forming in Remus' stomach.

"Should I be worried?"

"No... it's just..." she sighed. "Oh well, it's just full moon is in two days, isn't it?"

"Yes..." he felt curious now, but still a tad worried.

"Aren't you...? Shouldn't you be resting or something? I mean...," she sighed, " I don't know what I mean..."

He did know, however, and closed the small gap between them to kiss her.

"You're asking if I should take some time off before I transform? Resting or something of the sort?"

She smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah."

He caressed her cheek, unable to take his eyes off her.

"As you have seen, I don't."

Her smile broadened.

"I'll need some time afterwards to recover. But before... I'll just be uncomfortable for some hours, that's all."

"Good," she murmured, snuggling closer against him.

"Tonks?"

"Yeah?" she was the one sounding sleepy now.

"Don't hesitate on asking... about my transformations or anything, all right? I won't be offended."

She looked at him again.

"All right."

"All right."

* * *

**AN: Thank you so much QueenCobraWing, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, tt crews, Mickey S. J. Reilly, Blue Luver5000, MuggleCreator, Louey06, rolfshvuakomail, catwalkingowl, CharmChaser!**


	63. I don't know how can you trust him

_September 9__th__ 1995._

"I don't know how can you trust him."

"We all trust him, haven't you noticed?"

Remus eyed the steaming potion in the goblet in front of him. It would not get any tastier with time, that, he knew. But still he rather avoid that disgusting flavour for as long as possible.

"I don't trust him," Sirius said stubbornly, crossing his arms. The gesture almost made him lost the precarious balance of the rare legs of his chair.

"You do. We have to listen to what he says, how many missions have already be designed based only on facts he had told us about?"

He took the goblet and almost as if he wanted to prove a point, he took the potion with large gulps. It was really terribly disgusting.

"We don't have a choice," Sirius said, taking the goblet in his hand and examining it closer. "At least for the time being. But trust me on this one mate, Snape will betray us, sooner or later. We just need a backup plan. But with your case is completely different. How can you tell he's not tempering with the potion? Slowly killing you?"

Remus shook his head, his lips had still the foul taste of the potion.

"I can't tell," he admitted, standing up to grab a glass of water. He could not help but look outside the high window of the kitchen. The sky looked slightly orange, it was almost the time for him to transform and she had not come. Of course, she would have to really hurry out of work in order to arrive there before the full moon and he had assured her it was not necessary. And yet, he was harbouring the hope she would arrive on time.

_It's odd, since when am I one to harbour hopes?_

"Besides," he added to Sirius before he could marshal more arguments against Snape, "there are very few wizards capable of brewing that potion."

_Tonks is one of them._

He was not going to tell Sirius, tough, that she had offered to do it for the next month's full moon. Being an Auror, she had assured him she would be more than capable to brew Wolfsbane and she would be most happy to do it. The fact that they would have to wait for an extra month was because the Potions' master was already working on this month's dose.

Remus was pretty sure that Tonks would not be specially thrilled of letting everybody know about her doing it. Actually, besides Moody, nobody was aware they were together and that was something that made them smile a bit, enjoying the hidden glances they would share during meetings. Why would Tonks want to brew his potion would surely rise a lot of questions from Sirius and he just did not feel like answering them yet.

"It sort of makes you wish we had paid closer attention to Slughorn back at school," Sirius said and it took Remus a moment to follow his train of thoughts.

"Wolfsbane wasn't invented back then, and it's not something you would learn how to do in school either."

"You don't have to be this cheery," Sirius protested.

Remus knew he was right, but he knew he was nor really feeling up to pleasantries. His head was starting to throw and breathing was getting difficult, it was almost time.

"I'm not, I'm just stating a truth."

"Besides, what I meant is we could have gotten better at potions if we'd knew someday it would do some good."

It had always been like that, in their own way, they had always looked after him, just the way Sirius was going to do in a moment's time. He would never admit it, for it was a very terrible thing to admit, but Remus was sure Sirius enjoyed feeling himself useful and, for the time being, taking care of him while transformed seemed to be one of the very few useful things he could do while being inside headquarters.

"I must admit," Remus' voice was less sharp now, "the first time I took Wolfsbane Snape had made I wasn't really thrilled about it. I even got Moody to give me an antidote, just in case."

"Is there such a thing?" Sirius asked, riding his eyebrows.

"Not really. It's just something that would slow down the negative effects of most potions, long enough for me to call for help anyway."

"And you haven't used it..."

"There's been no need," Remus said with a wry smile, "but I've been carrying it around ever since." He produced the small glass bottle filled with dark liquid and showed it to Sirius. "It makes me thing I'm becoming as paranoid as Mad-Eye... which of course is paranoid thinking on its own."

"So _you_ don't really trust him," Sirius said and there was trust in his voice.

"Ever heard of 'constant vigilance'?" Remus arched an eyebrow but he soon rejected the gesture. He was starting to feel it approaching, he did not need to look out the window to know it was almost dark outside.

"Is it time?" Sirius asked conversationally, though Remus could see in his eyes he was being especially cautious.

"Yes, I'll go to my room," he tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew he was failing.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"As if. I'm going with you."

"It's boring, Sirius, you don't have to do this." And yet he was so happy that he was not alone anymore during the full nights. It was one of the best things about having Sirius back in his life.

"Get up you. I swear, you get much stubborn when the moon's here. It's almost unmanageable."

"Look who's barking," Remus muttered climbing up the stairs and wishing for his room to be on the ground floor.

Sirius laughed.

"That one never gets old, does it?"

It was very near now, Remus could not do a thing but nod. A moment later, he was alone and naked in the room he used while staying at headquarters. He had been explicit with Sirius, he had never wanted him to see the actual transformation and he was not going to let him now. He knew, though, that he was outside his door, waiting.

As usual, the snapping of his bones seem to take him by surprise. Was it his imagination or it was getting much more painful with the passing of the years? He could now smell Sirius outside, he had not yet transformed. Somewhere on one of the upper floors, Buckbeak was chewing something. The house now seemed to be almost breathing with noises of old wood and plaster it was almost amazing he could hear anything else at all.

The pain of his legs and arms reforming made him almost forget everything else. He was now panting, anticipating the strongest of all pains. The cracking of his spine made him made a strange noise. He would have to control that particular part of the transformation, nobody needed to listen to that.

Finally, panting, he realised the transformation was now complete. He looked around at this now familiar colourless world and sniffed a little around. He had actually thought about it, and he was almost ready to admit he had even looked forward to it. Tonks' scent lingered somewhere and it took him no time to realise it came from the closed wardrobe. It was probably the jumper he had been wearing the last time they had been together; Remus sniffed again in that direction, it was indeed a very pleasant scent.

The sound of the door made him turn around feeling something strongly similar to guilt. Sirius entered the room transformed in the black dog and made a couple of excited jumps. Remus knew he was just trying to be funny for him and he deeply appreciated it.

He run a couple of times around the room and finally settled on trying to bite Remus' tale. It was somewhat fun, and, as during his previous transformation, he wished he could remember how had it been for Sirius and the rest before he had Wolfsbane potion. Somewhat, he did not think a regular werewolf would be specially thrilled about having some other animal trying to chew its tail.

He was tired though, and Sirius knew it. He walked next to the fireplace and laid down, his head between his paws. The black dog barked once and then exited the room. Before falling asleep, Remus could hear the door shutting behind him and some whistling sound he imagined were the wards Sirius had promised to set.

* * *

A sound made him wake up with a jump, a sound he knew very good and yet he had never actually heard. Remus had always thought Tonks had a beautiful voice; now, his hearing enhanced because of the transformation, he felt he was distinguishing every shade of it and he realised it was the most wonderful sound he had ever heard. And even if Sirius' mother was screaming her lungs off, Remus approached his ear to the gap between the door and the floor; he just wanted to hear her speak again.

She had arrived then, even if it had been too late for him to see her.

The thought of her being downstairs made him curse the moon again. He could have been with her again, right then, had the wretched moon not had other plans for his evening. Tonks spoke again, but he could not make out the words. She must have gone to the kitchen with Sirius.

He took some steps around, trying to get closer to the sound but he could not; with a sigh, he lied again, wishing for the night to pass as quickly as possible.

Remus was not fully asleep when her voice made him raise his head. She was yelling and Sirius as well. Were they fighting? What for? Had something happen? He listened closely for a third voice but there was none. They calmed down pretty quickly though, and he hoped it had been nothing but a bad joke from Sirius.

Finally he closed his eyes and did not wake up until the pain on his limbs made him almost jump. He did not mind; the full moon was almost over and he was about to be himself again. It was hard. He could hear his skin rip at his shoulders and his muscles forcing themselves to the original shape of his human body. He had to stifle a yelp, above it all she could not hear him complaining.

It was finished, finally. A moment later, the door opened and Sirius' dog shape entered just to be replaced by his human self a second after.

"All right you there?" he said and Remus could hear the concern behind his cheery tone.

"'m fine" he said, his voice harsh. "Thirsty."

"I got you," Sirius made him levitate towards the bad and very carefully, made him hover slowly to the mattress. "I'll patch you up a bit, you'll want to look presentable."

There was a very distinctive amusing tone in his voice that did not got lost to Remus.

"Hm?" he managed, his teeth clenched.

"So, what have you been up to at night lately? I mean, when you're not all hairy and carving for human flesh... or maybe you are?"

For a moment Remus considered Sirius had been at the wrong end of a Confundus spell.

"What?"

"You know, night activities, strolling down empty streets, diner at candlelight..." Sirius conjured a glass of water and helped Remus drink it.

"I have no idea of-"

Sirius gave a loud bark-like laugh.

"There is somebody very eager to see you. And I'm not going to forgive you ever for not telling me the moment it happened."

Even for his tired mind and body, it was suddenly clear what Sirius was talking about.

"Tonks?" Remus murmured.

"Who would have thought?" Sirius said, now covering Remus with a blanket. The feeling of it on his freshly healed wounds was not really pleasant but he was not going to complain. "All these time it was happening right in front of my eyes and I did not see it coming. So, how do you feel about my baby cousin?"

Remus rolled his eyes at his friend.

"I'm too tired for this. Besides, I'm not going to-"

"And she's been very descriptive too, you know. Talking non-stop all night long..."

"What did she...?"

"Ah!" Sirius was now beaming broadly, "that, my friend, is something you'll have to ask her."

"She's still here?"

"She's been sleeping on the kitchen table for the past few hours. Didn't want to go to the spare bedroom." He was now sounding earnest. "I insisted but she said she'd rather wait up for you to 'come back'. Then she fell asleep and I've just left her like that. Don't worry," he added, "I'll go fetch her now."

Still smiling, he turned around to the door.

"Pad- Padfoot?" Remus stammered and Sirius turned around, his eyebrows raised. "Thanks, mate."

"You realise I'll make you tell me every nasty little detail of it, don't you?"

Remus just nodded, closing his eyes.

"I won't though," he added after Sirius left.

For a wild moment he wished he could still hear as sharply as the werewolf, now he only knew she was near when she heard her breathing from the threshold. Apparently she had ran upstairs.

"Hello", he called her, wondering if she was feeling awkward of being near him now. His eyes were still closed but he could imagine her entering the room, for a moment he tried to guess which colour was his hair.

"Hi," she said and he heard her approaching the bed. He opened his eyes and smiled at her. Red. It was a nice colour. "How do you feel?" she added.

"Wonderful," he murmured, stretching a hand and taking hers; she laced her fingers with his. Is was indeed something unique to be able to wake up after a full moon and have her at his side. He pulled her softly, wishing for her hesitation to be just concern and not displeasure, and he could not help but smile when she sat on the edge of the bed.

"You're a terrible liar, Remus Lupin," she said and he could hear laughter lingering in her voice.

"Don't you believe me? Do I look so horrible?" he wanted to laugh out loud but he was not feeling strong enough.

"You look very handsome," she said smiling, "but... tired."

He chuckled and pulled her closer. He could see she was making an effort not to disturb him; she should not have worried, it was great to feel her body on his chest.

"I meant that, though. I'm feeling wonderful," he said, and ignoring the stinging on his shoulders he heaved her right arm to stroke her hair.

"Hm? How so?"

"Here I am, a harmless old werewolf, enjoying waking up with my wonderful girlfriend." He was tired all right, he realised now. He had never before referred to himself as a werewolf in front of her, not had he ever called her his girlfriend. "I've never felt better after a transformation in my life." It was true.

"Really?" Tonks said, looking up at him and smiling broadly.

"Absolutely," he said, caressing her cheek with the tip of his finger. She leaned closer and kissed him, and even though it was chaste, he enjoyed the certainty that she was not afraid or disgusted by him. "And you've made it even better," he added, closing his eyes.

Her head was on his chest again and he got a whiff of that scent he had felt on his own clothes when he was transformed. For a moment he thought about telling her that, but he thought better of it. Maybe one day he would share with her how being a werewolf was, but not today. She had seen enough as it was.

"Incidentally…" he had just remember Sirius' remarks of a moment ago.

"Yeah?"

"What have you and Sirius been talking about?"

She laughed softly.

"Why?" the mocking innocence in her voice could not fool him.

"Well…" he decided he would push his luck again and maybe get her to talk a little, "he did ask a lot of questions about my night activities while I'm not transformed... and he also wanted to know what I think about his baby cousin."

"I'm not a bab-" she prompted and Remus smiled at her flustered expression.

"And finally I had to tell him I was too tired and he just said he was going to fetch you."

Her expression was so adorable; her cheeks were pink and her eyes shining, he felt like kissing her, even if in his present condition doing so would be probably painful.

"Oh well… there was kind of a misunderstanding last night, and I had to do some explaining. And, in the process, I might have said one or two things..."

He wondered if she was telling him everything or if she was going to keep parts of the conversation for herself. Also if he would be able to learn those parts from Sirius later.

"Such as?"

She looked at him, biting her lip.

"I love you," she finally said.

Nothing in the world could have prepared Remus for hearing her saying those words, her eyes still fixed on his and now her lips trembling slightly. Was it not too soon? Probably, but he did not care, for he was feeling exactly the same thing for her. That was it, he was in love with Tonks.

Forgetting the fact that his back and arms hurt, he cupped her face, trying to be as delicate as possible, and kissed her slowly. It was wonderful, special, warm and soft.

"I love you too."

* * *

**[Tonks' Ch 65]**


	64. Remus could not shake off the feeling

Remus could not shake off the feeling that somehow it had been them, he and Tonks, who had driven them away. It had been too much of a coincidence that mere days after their incursion into the big house, the Notts were no-where to be found. They had just vanished, house-elf and all.

Somebody from the Order had been tasked to guard the house at all times since they had reported their findings; mostly it had been Hestia and Deddalus. None of them had had anything unusual to report until the day Hestia realized, after four hours of too much tranquillity, that the place was empty.

Kingsley had immediately come up with a clever idea about protecting a respectable wizarding family from a known suspect and he had obtained the clearance they had been needed to register the place. He had even managed for Tonks to be tasked with him, since she knew the place. Only, there was not a thing to see.

"I tell you, Remus" Tonks was saying later that day, while the two of them having diner in her flat. "It was as if the place had been just built. It was not only empty, it was spotless clean! There wasn't even dust, or dirt, or garbage. Just… nothing!"

"And what about the deeds of the house?" he asked.

"It wasn't theirs to begin with. They had registered it all right as their place of residence, but it belonged to this old Muggle woman. They were renting the place."

"And she says…?"

"She's dead. She's been dead for months now, and she doesn't have living relatives. At least, we haven't found them."

"But surely the Muggles look into those things when somebody dies," Remus was shaking his head; he did not like the situation at all.

"They do, of course. Only, this time it seemed everybody forgot."

"How convenient."

"Tell me about it."

Tonks finished her noodle soup and grabbed a cup to pour in some coffee; she had a late shift that night.

"I reckon you're right. We did something to upset the place and they realised we were checking on them."

"Maybe they saw Hestia or Deddalus," Remus tried to consider a new angle. "Maybe they recognised them."

"That's also possible but I think it's more likely that it was us."

"Yeah, you're right. We were careful but your average paranoid wizard would have put hidden security spells."

Tonks just sighed.

"Moody said we should have seen it coming."

"That's a little bit fresh from him, isn't it? He's the one who tasked us to do it!"

"Well, I told him exactly that," Tonks said, sipping her coffee. "He said he knew what he was doing, of course, and he thought we would have a little more common sense."

"Easy for him to say."

"Anyway, we needed to get in. And even though they've disappeared, I think it's safe to assume their operation is still up and running, only, somewhere else."

Remus nodded.

"We just have to keep an eye on any strange Muggle activity."

"All of their activities are strange to me," Tonks sighed.

Remus chuckled even though it was getting difficult to find the humour on the recent situations.

"I have the information you asked me, I'm sorry it took me this long," Tonks said, fishing into her purse and producing a file.

"On the Mannings?"

"Them. It was very difficult to find them, they had almost no records. Well, guess what, the kid you've been following and his brother… their father is a wizard, but their mum's a Muggle."

Remus almost jumped.

"What? And he wants to join-?"

"At first it seemed to be all levels of weird," Tonks nodded, handing Remus the file. "And there was no further information in the archives."

"I don't understand. He was talking about stop hiding from the Muggles…"

Remus started looking at the pages on the file, there were not many. There was a copy of a wedding certificate and two recent Hogwarts records, plus and older one of one Michael Manning. There was no further information on the Muggle mother.

"Well," Tonks said producing a second file. "There was not much in _our_ archives, but I managed to find some gossip on theirs, the Muggles."

He took the second file without saying a word. There was no parchment on it, but Muggle sheets of paper, they were some sort of certificates, covered with crammed handwriting and official looking stamps.

"That one," Tonks pointed at the first one, "is a divorce certificate. She left, you see? And now that kid wants revenge."

Remus groaned.

"And he thinks they'll let him in!"

"But he has no idea of what they actually do, he can't have. Because no matter how angry you are at your mother for leaving you, I don't think you'll want her dead, or tortured."

Remus sighed.

"I shouldn't have let him go."

Tonks approached him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"You did the right thing, don't doubt it for a second."

He wanted to believe her, he needed to. And yet there was something nudging him.

"Yaxley," he finally said. "The kid said he wanted to talk to him. Maybe there is a recruitment programme and Yaxley is directing it."

Tonks looked thoughtful.

"Maybe the kid just heard the name and fancied himself a volunteer."

"Whatever it is, I'll go and check on him," Remus stood up.

"What now?" Tonks looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall.

"I don't want to wait for the official order, I'm just going to check on him for a while."

"I'll go with you."

"You can't, you have to be at the Ministry for your guard duty."

Tonks sighed.

"I hate it when you're right."

"No, you don't," Remus said to her before kissing her good-bye.

"Yes, I do," she called after him right before he closed the door.

* * *

Just like any other prominent and supposedly former Death Eater, the Order of the Phoenix knew exactly where he lived. They had not yet tasked anybody to follow him mostly because Yaxley was a public person, not likely to go into hiding and therefore easy to check on. At least, the visible face of whatever operation he might be running.

They had tried to keep tabs on him from time to time but the truth was there were too many suspected Death Eaters to follow around the clock. Remus was now wondering if this had been the one they should not have taken their eyes off.

Unlike Nott, Yaxley lived in the countryside, well away of any Muggle population, at a very large house near a forest. At the time, except for a couple of lit windows on the top floor, it was all surrounded by darkness.

Lying low in the midst of some bushes as an extra precaution, Remus started thinking Tonks had been right and this had been a very bad idea indeed. What were the odds that just the night he started watching the house something strange would happen?

Maybe he just needed to get back to headquarters and fill a report for Dumbledore, with Tonks findings on the Mannings. But then, there was nothing on it, and filing a report would mean to admit what he had done to the kid.

_Well,_ he thought_, if it's necessary, I'll just tell them I did. _

He knew it would not be easy for him and, much worse, the consequences for the boy would not be nice. He needed a reason and he knew this was why he had hurried to get to Yaxley's house. He needed to spot something worthy enough for the Order to task somebody permanently to the spot, and it would be better if that something had nothing to do with the kid he had Obliviated.

For three days in a row Remus stood there, leaving just briefly to grab something to eat. With every passing hour, it all seemed more and more absurd to him. Yaxley just seemed to be much too careful, Remus had never seen somebody getting in or out of the house; they seem to move using only the Floo Network or it was even possible they were creating Portkeys of their own… and of course there was the possibility of Yaxley not doing a thing at all. Maybe he never was a Death Eater!

That thought was absurd and he knew it.

Tonks had kept an eye on him too, whenever she had had the opportunity of getting close to him at the Ministry. That had proven to be much more difficult for she had her own share of work to do. It had been fruitless too.

And right in the middle of the third night, when Remus was about to decide it would be much better for him to go home to Tonks and just ask for the Order to get somebody guarding the house without an apparent reason, he heard it. It was some movement on the grass, just between his position and the gates that surrounded the house.

What was it?

The light was scarce and there was no moon. Still he tried hard to make up what it was that was approaching Yaxley's house this late at night.

He could not see a thing, not a figure, not a shadow.

The noise started again, something was moving, apparently fast, but he could not see a thing.

Maybe it was just an animal, a fox or a hare coming from the nearby forest, lured by the faint smell of food coming from the house.

And then it hit him.

It was an animal. Could it be?

He could not risk casting a light on the path. He could not even get any closer because if it was indeed what he thought it was, his hearing would be much better than his own.

For a long moment there was not a sound to be heard and Remus tried his best not to breathe in case it would not be his moving but his scent that would give him away.

Finally the soft noise resumed and, for a fleeting second, he could see the small silhouette against the golden light of the house' front door.

It was a rat all right. With a tiny silvery paw that shone golden for an instant.

Remus almost jumped his wand at the ready. He wanted to summon the rat, he wanted to petrify it, to get to it in whichever possible way and capture it once and for all. He needed to do it.

For a moment he thought about Sirius and how everything could change for him if he could just get hold of the tiny creature that was now running towards the front door.

Remus pointed his wand at the rat shape of Peter and casted a non-verbal summoning charm. Nothing happened. He tried to petrify it, to vanish it, to hurt it, but all his spells seemed to bounce against some invisible wall. The rat was now climbing a pipe and a second later it was entering through a window in the ground floor. It was completely out of his reach.

It was a wild idea and yet he considered going after it, duelling whoever there might be inside the house in order to finally put his hands on Peter. It lasted for less than a second. He knew he could not do it alone not only because of the risk of being outnumbered but also because that could expose the Order of the Phoenix and that was something that ought to be avoided at all costs; even if not capturing Peter would mean that Sirius was further condemned to stay at Grimmauld place.

Remus retired further amongst the bushed and focused his thoughts on her. Producing a Patronus like that seemed to be so easy these days, despite of the situation. A moment later he had the impression he had head a muffled cracking sound; many minutes later he heard the footsteps.

"What's the emergency," Kingsley said sounding a tad bitter.

What had Remus interrupted with his Patronus, he had no idea, but he needed backup.

"Pettigrew's here," he whispered. "He entered the house, transformed."

Kinsley whistled softly.

"Are you sure of it?"

"I could recognise that rat anywhere."

"Have you done anything?"

"I've called you."

"What were you doing here anyway? Isn't this Yaxley's house?"

Remus was ready for this question.

"I've been checking on different places from time to time. I got lucky tonight."

If Kingsley had believed it or not, he could not tell. He hesitated for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the house.

"And it had to be _this_ house of all places."

Remus knew what the Auror meant. No matter how many resources Kingsley had, Yaxley was well ranked inside the Ministry. They would need much more than an order to get an opportunity to register the house.

"We can't do it," Remus sighed, recognising defeat. "He'll know we're after him."

"Exactly."

"What do we do?" he asked, even when he knew the answer.

"Nothing. There is nothing we can do. You know what Dumbledore will say. It's not the rat we're after."

Remus just nodded, he could not stop thinking about Sirius, sitting probably alone in the kitchen of the house he hated so much.

"I'm sorry mate," Kingsley added. "I'll see that somebody's tasked here day and night."

He nodded again. The mixture of feelings, rage, anger, sadness, impotence, was too strong to form into words.


	65. Aconite

_October 1__st__ 1995._

"Aconite," Remus said, twirling the delicate flower between his index and his thumb.

"Aconite," Tonks repeated, intently looking at him. "Are you having second thoughts about me brewing this for you?"

Remus tried for his smile to be reassuring.

"Are you?"

She shook her head.

"I'm not. I know I can do this," she said, taking the Aconite from him.

Her smile was not confident though, it was plain to see.

She looked again at the piece of parchment where she had copied the recipe, and aligned the ingredients on the table. Remus recognised them all, and a fresh flow of very unpleasant memories came over him, from the one time he had attempted to brew the potion.

This time would be different, though. He had seen her brewing potions before and it was clear that she knew what she was doing, something that he could hardly say for himself. And even if something went wrong, there were many ways in which real damage would be prevented.

"I was thinking, though..." she spoke again, looking at the small pile of ingredients on her kitchen table. "I'd rather do this back in Headquarters."

"Grimmauld Place? Why?"

Tonks sighed.

"Just in case."

He wondered if her sudden lack of confidence was a prove that her abilities were not that good as she had boasted about or if it was just her being naturally worried about his well-being.

"I trust you..." he started.

"Well, that's foolish, isn't it?" she practically snapped.

"Why?"

"You don't know me that well, Remus, you don't know how good am I doing this…"

"You'll never harm me."

"Not on purpose I wouldn't."

He approached her and put a hand on her back, trying for the gesture to be soothing.

"I can always get Severus to brew it for me again."

She just shook her head.

"That's just rubbish. I'll do it all right. And I know it's going to be fine. More than fine."

"Then…?"

"Then, just in case, please, let's go to Grimmauld Place. It would be much easier for me to… to get you some help… just if…" she trailed off. "It's going to be all right," she repeated and Remus wondered if she was talking to him or if she was just trying to convince herself.

"I know it will," he said, and he mostly meant it. "You're just lacking a bit of confidence, that's all."

She nodded.

"I guess you're right."

He took the flowers back from her grip and placed them inside the empty cauldron along with the rest of the ingredients.

"I would like you to consider, though, that Sirius might want to make fun of you for this."

Tonks chuckled and Remus could not stop feeling good that his attempt for lighting up the atmosphere had worked.

"I'd rather deal with that," she said, putting the rest of the ingredients into her bag. "Out of stubbornness the potion might get easier under that sort of pressure."

"Really?"

"That's the way I went through the Programme, didn't you know?"

He now laughed out loud.

"It doesn't surprise me."

He was ready to Disapparate, carrying the cauldron, but her sudden gabbing of his sleeve stopped him.

"What if I get it wrong, Remus? What if…?"

"Listen to me," he said, placing the cauldron on the table again and taking her hands. "You won't, all right?"

"You don't know that…"

"I know…"

"I'm so clumsy! I could get it all wrong."

"Listen to me, Tonks. You're not clumsy, not when your head is on the task. Haven't you realised it yet?"

She arched an eyebrow but did not say a thing.

"Remember that time when you stun Sirius outside the Burrow."

"Yes…"

"Did you trip? Did you aim wrong? Did you hesitate?"

"No, I didn't, but that was completely-"

"Have you ever tripped while chasing a suspect?"

"Of course I haven't-"

"Have you ever said the wrong thing when interrogating somebody?"

"Not recently."

He smiled now in triumph and he could see in the corners of her mouth she was about to do the same.

"You'll be brilliant," he just said. "But if you stop feeling comfortable with this, we can always get old Snivelly to do it for me."

Now she smiled properly and there was some determination in her expression that made her look a little like Sirius.

"Oh no, we're not. If it's me competing against that slime-ball, I'm sure I'll get it right."

"Was there any doubt?" he asked, taking the cauldron again. "Come on, let's cheer up that mongrel, shall we?"

* * *

"Don't mind me now; I can see you've abandoned me." Sirius said without taking his eyes off the glass on the table.

He had been extremely cross after Remus had told him he had seen Peter; he had even talked to Dumbledore, asking him for the umpteenth time to let him get out of Headquarters and try to track down the rat, using as an argument the fact that, as a dog, his senses would be enhanced and thus, he might get a better shot on the chase.

For a wild second it had actually seemed that the old headmaster would consent, but he did not and just asked for some patience. Remus had had to agree with Sirius that it had been asking a little too much.

"Bollocks," Tonks said, placing her bag on the table. "And self-pity doesn't suit you at all."

"I do have plenty of reasons to," he said, taking a large sip from the glass. "Besides, I can asure you little cousin of mine, self-pity had taken me to places in the past."

"Do I want to know?" Tonks asked Remus.

"Most definitely not."

"Aha," she said, now emptying the cauldron and carefully aligning the ingredients on the table.

"What's with the cooking pot? Molly's left the biggest roast beef of human's history and I bet it would taste better than whatever you're attempting to do these days, Tonks."

Remus stood still for a moment, wondering if he should say something or just left her to deal with it.

"Well, thanks for that," she snapped before he could make up his mind, "but I don't think Molly's roast beef, however delicious, would do much for a transforming werewolf during a full moon."

It took the idea several long moments to sink in. Suddenly Sirius was looking at Remus and he had the strange feeling he was trying to practice Legilimency on him.

"She's off her rocket, isn't she?" he said tentatively.

"I hope not," Remus replied simply, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "And it was my idea."

She was reading the same piece of parchment with the receipt even though, Remus was sure of it, now she knew it by heart.

"Then you're off…" he squinted his eyes.

She had taking out a set of tiny scales off her bag and had tapped them with her wand, to make them grow to their original size. Without a word, she started grinding some ingredient of the lot, her eyes fixed on the task.

"You're brewing Wolfsbane potion," Sirius finally said.

"That I am doing," Tonks replied, not taking her eyes off the scales in which she had just placed some Aconite roots.

"That's why Snivelly hasn't shown up with your dose for today," he addressed Remus now.

"That's correct," he said, but his mind was on Tonks. She seemed to be absolutely oblivious to the lack of confidence Sirius was displaying. If something, it seemed it was making her stayed more focused.

She had been right about coming here, only it had little to do with being closer to the help if it was needed, and a lot to do with this sort of bantering. Remus wondered if she was aware of this.

"Well…" Sirius cleared his throat loudly. "It's a good idea, isn't it?"

"You need to put a liiittle more conviction on that sentence," Tonks said, not taking her eyes of the cauldron.

"No, I mean it," Sirius said, and Remus was amazed at seeing his efforts of sounding reassuring. "You've had this sort of training, haven't you? You're supposed to be good in brewing these things…"

"I am," she lighted a fire under the cauldron and finally looked up at them. "Very good at them, as a matter of fact."

Sirius seemed to want to say something. He even opened his mouth a couple of times but, at the end, he just grabbed for his Firewhiskey and took one last large sip.

"It's certainly going to be a relief, not having to see him that often."

"You'll get stuck with me, though," Tonks said, now looking at the smoking liquid on the cauldron and stirring it with her wand.

"You're just fishing for a compliment there and you're not getting it from me," Sirius replied.

Tonks extended her outstretched palm, muttering under her breath, her eyes still fixed on the potion. Remus knew she was counting the time she had to stir the potion clockwise and counter clockwise. After a moment, she looked up again and smiled.

"You think this is a bad idea," she said brightly, looking at Sirius.

"No I don't," he said a moment too fast.

"I don't care," she replied.

"All right," Sirius finally said. "You're not stupid, any of you, and if you think this is going to work, then by all means, it is going to work."

"We need your help for that," Tonks said and Remus was glad he was not the one having to voice out their shared fears.

"I can't do a thing with a cauldron that doesn't involve different sorts of liquors on New Year's Eve," Sirius prompted.

"No," she was serious now. "I want you to be at the ready in case he needs help."

Sirius snorted.

"And here I was, thinking about going for a walk tonight, and you've just ruined it."

Remus chuckled; trust Sirius to know how to ease tensions.

"I'll take you for a walk, mutt, after this thing is over."

Sirius smiled.

"And I'll take your word for that."

Remus smiled at both of them, with a strange feeling of déjà vu. At some point it had just felt like being back at school, only this time it was Tonks instead of James, planning with Sirius something that concerned him. He shook his head; it was not a very nice thought as a matter of fact.

Sirius stood up and poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey.

"I'll offer you kids one, but I know you can't," he pointed at Remus with his almost full glass, "and you shouldn't," he looked at Tonks.

She just huffed, her eyes still on the potion.

Remus knew that even though it was a tricky potion, it did not take much time to brew. If everything had been right, it would be ready soon.

The silence was getting heavy. Sirius, for once, seemed to be at a loss of something to say, and he did not know if it would be easier for her to listen to them talking about something completely random, or just the silence.

"You make me feel sort of self-conscious, you know?" she muttered from her spot near the cauldron.

"I was just..." Sirius said.

"... watching my every move. And Remus, I know you're too."

She suddenly looked up; the fumes of the potion had made her green bob look a little frizzy but she did not seem to care, and neither did Remus. He was just relieved to see she was smiling.

"It's ready."

Bluish fumes were emerging from the cauldron. Tonks went to the counter and took a clean cup.

"You can check it for me if you want," she said to him and Sirius.

"I wouldn't know if you'd done something wrong," Sirius prompted, not a hint of a joke in his voice. "The only thing I can say is that it looks exactly like the one Snivellus brings over."

She just nodded, and carefully filled the cup with the liquid.

"I haven't tried it, but it warns here that this thing tastes like hell," she said to Remus, pointing at the piece of parchment.

"Oh, that. And there I was, thinking that Snape was making it horrible on purpose."

"You can't add sugar, or honey, or anything to this, it would rend it useless," Tonks said, handing him the cup.

He took it, and with his other hand he took hers and kissed her fingers.

"Thanks."

She smiled tiredly.

"Don't you thank me just yet. Let's... let's get on with this, all right? And then you can thank me."

Remus nodded. Trying for the gesture to be casual and failing at it, Sirius stood up and walked nearer.

"Cheers, then." Remus said, trying to feel something that could tell him that there was something wrong with the potion.

Just like the first time he had had it from Snape, he could not feel a thing.

He was about to drink it but she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Take the antidote out."

"What?"

"Moody's antidote," she said, "the one you're carrying around. You're carrying it around, aren't you?"

Remus nodded, and fished the tiny bottle from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Good. Let's keep it here, all right? Just in case?"

The situation was dragging and Remus would start to doubt everything unless he would do something at once. And without a warning, he took the freshly brewed potion and drunk it in three large gulps.

The taste was awful, but not unlike the one of Snape's potion.

Tonks and Sirius were looking at him, her hand actually on the small phial of black antidote.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

"This thing tastes terrible all right."

"Never mind that," Tonks said almost bouncing, "how are you feeling?"

He smiled at her, suddenly touched by all her efforts fighting her own fears.

"I'm fine. I'm just... I'm all right."

She sighed.

"I knew it would be all right," Sirius said, happily draining his glass.

"No you didn't," Tonks snapped, "and let's just wait till the full moon to cheer, all right?"

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot, DeathlyHallowsSchoolgirl, Louey05, CharmChaser, Mickey S. J. Reilly, tt crews, roflshvuakomail, QueenCobraWing, loveislouder94, SuperWriterToTheRescue, ThearsOdaSingingPhoenix, SoiSoi, MuggleCreator, Blue Luver5000 and elmo98!**


	66. Just another fruitless day

**J. K. Rowling is the creator and owner of Harry Potter, the places and the characters depicted in the books. She has a very cool website too.**

* * *

_October 7__th__, 1995._

It had been just another fruitless day of searching and Remus feared he was getting obsessed with Peter Pettigrew. Maybe he was, but it did not change a bit the situation. Since he had seen him as a rat some days ago it had been close to impossible to take him off his mind.

Not Tonks' and his own anxiety on her brewing Wolfsbane potion for him could change that, even though it almost had for one day or two.

The real issue was that every time he was to come back to number 12, Grimmauld Place, and cross the threshold he could not let go the feeling that he had been mere metres away from the creature that had made so much harm to him, and Sirius, and so many other people. And it had been a mixture of him not being fast enough and all the protective charms around Yaxley's house what had prevented him from catching it… it had been so darn close!

And speaking of Sirius… he hastened down the kitchen and what he saw was just a too familiar sight. He was sitting at the kitchen table, looking down at an old book, a half-full glass at hand's reach.

Remus wondered how many had it been. How much Firewhiskey did Sirius need to get through each day in this old-new prison of his?

That thought alone was more than enough to fuel this sort of obsession of his. If only he could get to Peter, if only he could capture him and take him to the Ministry of Magic, if only they would hear his version and finally acknowledge that they had been wrong all along and Sirius was free to walk wherever he pleased?

It had been a long, useless night, and he had come home to a depressed friend. For a moment he wished he could shut it all out and just Apparate to Tonks but he remembered she was on duty that night. Still, the perspective of her empty flat was far more appealing than this.

He knew, though, in his heart of hearts, that he was not one to take the more appealing perspectives in life. No, he was the sort of bloke that would try to do the right thing and, in times like these, it was a very heavy burden.

"How was it?" Sirius asked and it was plain he knew the answer already.

"Nothing."

"Aha."

He looked down at the book again.

"Tonks left your dose an hour ago. She was worried you needed to drink it fresh, but she also said she'd read like three feet of books saying that a couple of hours were not going to have any detrimental effect on the thing."

"Right," Remus said, taking the goblet Sirius had pointed.

He looked up at him again, watching while he drained the potion. It was as horrible as ever.

"She told me to make sure you'd drink it… as if there was any reason for you not to do the right thing."

Remus was surprised that Sirius' line of thought seem to be going along his own of moments ago.

"She's just nervous," he said trying to sound nonchalant.

"Aren't you?" Sirius asked.

Remus thought for a moment how to phrase his answer.

"Yes, I'm a tad nervous," he finally said. "But I'm sure she's capable enough."

"She's capable all right," Sirius said firmly, and Remus almost sighed out loud on seeing that he was smiling, albeit grimly. "And once this moon cycle is over, I'm going to tell her who does she remind me of, and she's not going to like it!"

"Who's that?"

"Slughorn."

Remus shut his eyes.

"Ugh, Sirius, for the name of all what's sacred, what on Earth made you compare Tonks with Slughorn?"

Sirius gave a bark-like laugh.

"I knew you would love it!"

"Oh yes," Remus' voice was loaded with sarcasm.

"But think about it. D'you remember how he used to start very slowly, carefully measuring everything and then he would just go faster and… I don't know… happier until at the very end of the brewing, you would think he was in some sort of joyful trip?"

Remus tried to recreate the image of their potions' master back at Hogwarts but his memories were not as accurate as Sirius'. He had hated the subject anyway.

"She's just like that," Sirius went on. "She was here today again, doing the thing, and I got a chance to really look at the way she'd do it. At the end she was actually singing something."

Remus smiled, it was a pity he had missed it.

"You're a lucky bastard," Sirius added, and there was not a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"I'm aware of that," Remus said.

"Good."

Sirius looked down at his book and Remus suddenly remembered he had actually had to do something for the Order that night.

"Did you talk to them, then? The kids?" he asked.

Sirius grunted and drunk the last of his Firewhiskey before putting his boots on the table.

"Yeah, I did. And I almost got caught."

"What?"

He grunted again and Remus took a sit in front of him, wondering if it would be wise to summon a fresh bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I didn't, so don't you get all worked up. It's going to be bad enough when I'd tell the rest of the Order. Well, the first thing we can be sure of is that now it's next to impossible to communicate with the castle. The fires are being monitored and I couldn't get the chance to ask them, but I reckon they are even intercepting the owls. So, we've to be extra careful."

"Or not communicate at all."

Sirius did not answer it but stared at the tip of his boots.

"At this point," he said after a moment, "I can't honestly say who'd I like best to meet face to face: Umbridge or that rat."

"I'm with you, on both accounts, mate. Except, I think the rat wins, just barely."

Sirius laughed humourless.

"Well, I passed along Molly's message. It's almost the only thing I could do before that caterpillar-fingered hag started checking on the fireplace. I tell you, mate, it was a close call," he sighed. "It's been too long since the last time I'd had a close call at something."

Remus did not know what to say, so he changed the subject.

"How are them? Harry and the rest?"

"They are brilliant," Sirius said, cheering up a little. "Nah, they are actually pretty pissed off with Umbridge which, given the circumstances is only natural, but other than that they are really carrying it through. It's exactly like Mundungus said. They've a group of twenty-eight students, can you imagine that?"

"That many?" Remus asked, enjoying seeing his mood lifting a little. There was something about Harry that would always rise up Sirius' spirit; he just had to remember it more often.

"Yeah, and I would've think they'd been exaggerating a little, only it all fits with what Dung said."

"And how are they going to do it?"

"That's the thing," Sirius said, rising up and heading to the pantry. "Shepherd's pie?" he called from inside.

"Yeah!" Remus answered, relieved to see that Sirius' mood was much more bearable now, for his and his friend's sake.

Sirius came back levitating the rests of an enormous pie, two plates and two forks and settled it all on the table.

"That woman is half-crazy, but you have to admit her food is superb. Too bad she talks too."

Remus chuckled.

"Come off it, I know you enjoy at least half of the discussions you have with her."

Sirius grunted and took a very large piece of pie, stuffing it into his mouth.

"Pie's not bad," he mumbled.

"So, about Harry, Ron and Hermione…?" Remus asked, taking some food as well.

"Well, they have it all half-figure it out. They've formed this group and their idea is to try and learn defensive spells and even some hexes, just in case."

"And is it true they've called it Dumbledore's Army?"

"I couldn't ask them, it was a very short conversation. The thing," he said, taking another piece of pie, "they haven't figured it out yet where are they going to meet in order to practice."

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"There's not hidden place large enough for them all to stay, let alone practice spells, while being hidden," Sirius explained.

"There's that corridor, remember? On the fourth floor behind the mirror-?"

"I told them that, it was one of the first places I thought of, but they told me it's blocked."

"Blocked? That's too bad; it was a nice way out of school."

"I liked the passage to Honeyduke's better."

"I know you did."

Sirius laughed softly and Remus could almost see the boy he used to be in the way his eyes would gleam at the memory.

"I suggested the Shrieking Shack as well," Sirius continued, "but Hermione told me it would be very difficult for them all to sneak there at night or whenever, without being seen."

"The Shrieking Shack…" Remus said thoughtfully.

It was a somewhat special place for him, but he could not say if the memories related to it were good or bad ones.

"I'd like the image," he spoke again slowly, "of that place being filled with kids practising spells."

"Can you imagine how proud would James have been?" Sirius said and Remus looked at him.

During the year after Sirius' escape, they had barely talked to one another and even though there had been letters, a lot of issues were not addressed on them. Now that they had had the chance of catching up with many things that had happened since that night in which Pettigrew hat betray them all, they had barely mentioned James or Lily.

"He would've been very proud," Remus agreed. "He would've wanted to go there and actually teach Harry some jinxes to pass along to the rest of the group."

"And Lily would've tried to play the part of a worried mother, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah, but she would've failed at it. She was so unlike Molly."

Sirius laughed a little and took another large portion of pie.

"I never got to thank you," he said after a while, thoughtfully looking at his fork, "although I don't know if I should thank… it's not me who should do it, right?" Remus raised his eyebrows, trying to understand what he was on about. "What I want to say," Sirius sighed, "is that I appreciate that you thought Harry how to produce a Patronus."

Remus did not know what to answer. Of course, had things turned out differently, Sirius would have been the one in charge of raising Harry. And how could that have worked out? It was a thought Remus had never considered before. How life would have turned out for Harry if they had captured Peter and he had been sent to Sirius? How would it have been for Sirius?

"You know," he started slowly. "I asked Dumbledore if I could be in charge of Harry… right after… they died."

Sirius looked at him, his mouth slightly agape.

"I didn't know."

"How could you?"

"And, of course, he told you you couldn't," he did nothing to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Remus shrugged and took another bite of pie.

"I couldn't have. For once, he had to remain hidden, back then we didn't know if the rest of the Death Eaters would be looking for him… And then there was the issue of me probably trying to bite his head off once a month."

"You could have turned him into a werewolf cub," Sirius' smile was wry. "Could've kept you company."

"That's a fine idea, Padfoot, I wonder why didn't I think of that before."

"You needed me as a mastermind."

"Right."

Sirius was silent for a long moment.

"You would've been a great Dad to Harry," he finally said.

"You should go easy on the Firewhiskey."

This time Sirius laughed.

"I'm sure I should, but I'm also sure that what I'm saying is the truth. You'll be a great Dad."

"Aha," Remus said, biting on the tips of his fork. "No more alcohol for you. From now on, when I'll have to go out I'll leave you with just one bag of tea for the entire afternoon. Two if I'll take longer than that."

"Don't be a prat about this, Moony." Sirius said, and for once he was the one looking grave. "Sometimes when you talk I get the impression we're eighty years old. And I don't mind if you want to be that old but I don't, thank you very much! I'm looking forward to the end of this, and I tell you I'm planning to go out as much as possible and, at some not so distant future, get myself a nice lady."

"Great plans."

"And you already have that nice lady! Or are you planning on leaving her? Because I swear to you, I'll hex you to next year and back!"

Remus did not know if he should take Sirius sincerely or not. The part of hexing him was not difficult to believe but the rest of it sounded to be a load of gibberish.

"Listen Sirius, yes, I do have a nice lady and no, I don't need you to get all worked up fearing that I would leave her, because I'm not planning to. But all this being a Dad nonsense is just that, nonsense!"

"It's not!"

"It's not for you. You'll find somebody, if you'd stay sober enough, and you might want to have kids with her, but that's just not for me. You know it, and I expect that Tonks knows it." He suddenly realised that was one conversation he had not had with her yet. But then, they had been dating for not such a long time as to have a conversation on children. What if the thought of it scared her to death? Or to go away from him? He would have to talk to her about it at some point. He would have to say… "My kind doesn't breed. I just can't join you in your plans."

"What kind is that? The absolute prat sort?"

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Padfoot, this is like being in school again, and you and James trying to convince me of doing something against my better judgement."

"Those never turned out bad, did they?"

Remus had to smile at the flow of memories that he knew he and Sirius were sharing right then, but he could not let him go on. The time of fantasies had long past.

"This one won't though. Just being with Tonks is more than what I could expect from life. And we," he added, his voice getting colder with every word, almost as if it was the first time he was hearing them himself, "werewolves, cannot have kids. If I recall correctly, you and I have had this conversation before! What's the point of bringing it up again?"

"Before?" Remus could not say if Sirius had actually forgotten or if he was playing dumb.

"The night Harry was born!"

It had not being a play; Sirius looked blankly at the empty space in front of his eyes. "Oh, yeah... when we were waiting..."

"Then! So, just as I told you then, I'm telling you now. We don't breed. I would not even try. Because I couldn't bear to give my condition to any other human being and, even if we hadn't had this discussion before, I would have thought that part had been cleared out for you in our Defence Against the Dark Arts back in fifth year."

Sirius did not flinch. If something, it seemed that his smile had grown wider.

"I do wonder," he said after a while, taking the last bite of the Shepherd's Pie, "what will she say about all this when you sum up the courage to broach the subject."


	67. The last one

_October 8__th__, 1995._

"The last one," he said, looking at her and heaving the goblet a little, ready to toast for it.

"And you're free to go." Tonks said, raising a bottle of Butterbeer as well.

"Until the next moon."

"Until then I'll try to figure out how to make it chocolate-flavoured."

Remus smiled at a joke that was refusing to get old.

"You know… my mother suggested it once," he had hardly talked about her with Tonks yet, or with anybody. His memories of her were still too fresh and somewhat painful.

"Really?" she smiled.

"Yes… I reckon that my taste for chocolate is just a tad too evident."

Tonks gave a little chuckle.

"I would've loved to meet her."

"And she would've loved to meet you too."

For a moment, none of them spoke but looked into each other eyes.

"Cheers!" She finally said, her bottle lightly touched the goblet and she took a sip. Unable to delay it any further, and considering the crimson light that was entering through the window, he drunk the contents of his goblet.

She had not said why, but Tonks had decided to brew the potion at her flat for the first time. If that had made her feel any more insecure or not, she had not let it show and it had been in a very cheery mood that she had handed the steaming goblet to Remus.

A way too cheery mood to convince him though.

A moment later, he had drunk the contents of the goblet and they had Apparated to Grimmauld Place. A couple of days ago, Tonks had suggested for him to transform in her flat, but he had been adamant about not doing it there. His reason he had given her was to give Sirius something to do, keeping him company during the full moon, but he knew that she had read between the lines. None of them could say how good things would go, and if the potion didn't work, he would need more that security spells around him to prevent his werewolf shape to cause havoc all around.

Her lack of discussion had proven him she knew exactly what could occur and the thought was both encouraging and terrifying. What had happened to this girl to suddenly accept not only what he was but what he could do, without apparent disgust or rejection? He did not know.

Remus had remembered once or twice the way she had looked at him during that awful fortnight in which she had been scared of him. This one seemed to be a completely different Tonks and it was costing Remus a lot to believe she had just decided to accept it all, and more so, in good spirits.

He would have to ask her, at some point, but he just did not want to bring up the subject when he was about to turn into that Dark Creature who had been the cause of it all.

He had hoped to arrive to empty headquarters, except for Sirius. He knew that he had been trying to tamper with the schedule for the Order's meetings trying to make sure that the house would be empty for him to transform. Only, it did not seem it had worked this time. Just his luck.

"Lupin," Snape sneered as a greeting the moment he and Tonks entered the kitchen. "Nymphadora."

"Good evening, Severus," he said, ignoring Tonks' flinching at his side and the unconfortable feelings that had erupted inside him at the sight of Snape.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, several scrolls of parchment spread in front of him. Sirius was towering over him, leaning on the counter, his arms crossed and his expression murderous.

"Wotcher," Tonks murmured, and it seemed as if the colour in her hair was turning dull, along with her expression.

Sirius just grunted, and Remus could not help but noticing the lack of Firewhiskey, Elf-made-wine or half-empty glasses on the table.

"You took your time," Sirius finally said to them as a greeting.

"Oh yeah, we went around shopping and then we decided to go to the movies for a spell," Tonks prompted, but her voice had lost a lot of her usual cheeriness. Remus remembered her telling him once that Snape still gave him the creeps; he would have thought that after months of having to work with him she would have gotten over it.

Or maybe it was just the fact that the three of them suspected that Snape's presence at headquarters that very night was not a coincidence. Remus did not know if he should ignore him and do what they had to do, or if he should say something.

"Fancy finding you here, Severus," he finally said.

"Considering that you always manage to make your visits to this house as brief as humanly possible," Sirius added.

With exasperating calm, Snape put the quill he had been scribbling with on the table and stretched a little.

"This seems to be as good a place to work as any other. A little pathetic, to tell the truth, but I've seen worse."

"Good place to work," Sirius grunted.

"And," Snape added, "I wouldn't want to miss this for the world."

"To miss what exactly?" Tonks said and Remus was relieved to hear her voice was not weak anymore.

"Why, making a fool of yourself, Nymphadora. And of Lupin here as well."

For a moment nobody spoke, and oblivious to the murderous glances coming from Sirius and Tonks, Snape took his quill again and resumed his writing.

"You know," she finally spoke, and Remus was both surprised and relieved to see her smiling broadly, "there is this fellow Auror," she stretched that last word, "Proudfoot. Great fellow. Great professor, too."

"Really?" Sirius said, and Remus saw in the gleaming of his eyes that he was anticipating whatever it was that Tonks was aiming for almost as much as he was.

"Yup," Tonks nodded. "He was the Potions and Antidotes instructor back at the Programme." If Snape was listening, he did not show it and yet, how could he not be? "The best thing about him was that he managed to undo all the damage seven years of lousy Potions lessons at school had done to me. Remarkable, really. Shall we?"

And without even waiting to see Snape's murderous expression, she exited the kitchen. Remus followed and, at his back, he could hear Sirius bark-like laughter.

They reached the landing in front of Remus' room and Sirius passed them, getting inside.

"I'll check everything's on place," he said, giving Tonks an appreciative look.

Remus faced her. He just wished, for her sake more than anything else, that this would turn out all right. And, if possible, that Snape would not plan to stay there during the whole of the night.

"See you later," he said.

For the first time in days, she seemed to have lost all the confidence displayed after the second of third attempt at the potion. He wondered if the Potion's master had had something to do with it.

"I'll be waiting," she muttered.

He cupped her face gently and kissed her.

"You still taste like the potion."

He smiled.

"See? Told you it was horrible."

"Oh, I've tasted it all right," she said with a small smile. "I wouldn't have given you anything I hadn't tried on myself first."

Remus blinked a couple of times, realising the full extent of her words.

"When did you…?"

"The very first time I did the thing. Only, I was too quick for you or Sirius to see."

For a moment Remus stared at her, without being sure of what to say. Sudden pain in his back told him that it was almost time and he had to hurry and barricade inside his room before the moon would appear.

"Forgive me if it doesn't come up as we thought…" she started.

"Shh," he kissed her again. "You're not to say any of that, all right?"

She nodded slowly.

"I'll… I'll be here in the morning."

"I know," he said, forcing himself to smile despite the pain now spreading to his legs. "I'm going to be all right."

"Quite," she gave him another quick kiss. "Now bugger off."

He beamed at her and went after Sirius.

He was sitting on the bed, twirling his wand on his fingers. In the fireplace, embers were already burning.

"Ready?" he asked unnecessarily.

Remus nodded.

"As ready as always."

Sirius looked around; he seemed to be making up his mind about telling him something.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

He waved his wand around. "Another silencing charm," he explained. "Well… I've just… I don't want Tonks to know this, all right? But I've put some extra defensive spells on the room. Just… just in case it doesn't work."

Remus nodded, his teeth clenched at the increasing pain.

"It's the right thing to do," he finally said.

"All right then."

"All right."

Remus waited until Sirius would exit the room and only then did he produced the small glass phial with the antidote Moody had given him so long ago and placed it on the mantelpiece. There was no room for mistakes now. Whether she had brew the potion right or not, they would find out in no time. He realised then that in the eventuality that something would go terribly wrong, Snape's presence would not be half bad, and yet, thinking about the self-satisfied smirk in his face made him wish desperately that the situation did not come to that. For Tonks' sake.

He would not be the cause of her feeling guilty if something went wrong. It just had to work.

He could not think any further, the snap of the bones in his legs made him topple over on the hard wooden floor. It was painful enough, and yet Remus focused on trying to find out if something was going wrong.

The loud snap of his spine made him lost track of his own thoughts. It was making him trash around, but he could feel it was almost over. His limbs were already those of the beast, and he realised that he could hear Sirius breathing on the other side of the door. He realised that the silencing spells Sirius had casted did not work the other way around, so he could hear what was going on in the house.

That's when Remus realised… he was still thinking, still reasoning as himself.

The transformation was finally over; around him, the world was black and white, and he could now hear Tonks, apparently pacing up and down the entrance hall of number 12. And he could remember her, and Sirius, and Snape, and everything that had happened that day or the day before. He remembered his latest obsession with Wormtail and the exact taste of the potion he had drunk no long ago.

It was just him, with another shape but essentially him.

The door opened and closed right away. Sirius was inside in his dog form, looking at him somewhat crouched, and Remus could see he was ready to attack, had it proven necessary. How strange it was to feel moved about somebody wanting to attack you, and yet, he was.

Slowly, he crouched on the floor, his eyes never leaving Sirius'. He cocked his head to the side and whimpered softly. Remus stood up, he had understood that everything had gone just fine.

As usual, he felt really tired, so he went by the fire and crouched on it. At his back, he felt Sirius exiting the room, and he thanked him for going to Tonks right away. Had he gone back into the kitchen to confront Snape or had she wanted to stay away from him? He would have loved to be the one reassuring her but, for the time being, it was just great to have somebody doing it for him.

He could hear their voices, and Tonks giving a small laugh. He knew that laugh all right, it was some sort of triumphant cry she sometimes did, when things went particularly well. Sirius had told her that the potion was working and she was celebrating. He heard their steps going down the stairs and more muffled words being said. A moment later, he heard the front door closing. He strained his ears, trying to make out who had gone out. Recognising Sirius' and Tonks' voice down in the kitchen made the wolf sigh relieved. Snape had finally left; for a moment, he wished he could join Sirius and Tonks but he discarded the thought at once. As it was, things were going much better than he would have hoped some months ago. There was no point on wishing for the impossible.

And with that thought and the soft scent of her coming from the wardrobe, probably from one of his own jumpers, he felt asleep.

Twice that night Sirius re-entered the room. The first time Remus was too tired to pay any attention, but the second one he was wide awake. The night was almost over and he was eagerly waiting for the moon to go away.

Something had happened, as much was clear when Sirius' dog shape entered the room and started sprinting around. Or maybe it was just his attempts of distracting him, jumping and actually wanting to play with him as if they were two wolf cubs instead of two grown up men in shapes that were not theirs.

Still, it was so rare to see Sirius in good spirits that Remus obliged, actually jumping as well, trying to make him lost his balance. It was as good a way to pass the time as any other. Better as a matter of fact, because after some jumping and chasing, toppling over some of the furniture, he realised he was very tired again. He could even sleep a little before the sun would rise.

Somehow, Sirius understood that and left again, and with a loud sigh Remus felt asleep again.

The pang of pain on his head made him wake up with a startle, and his last thought before giving up to the throbbing of his muscles, was that they would finally be absolutely sure that Tonks' Wolfsbane had been as good as Snape's.

It seemed to take forever this time for his bones to go back to their usual shape, and for his skin to rearrange around his muscles. He seemed to have broken a shoulder blade this time; the pain was very strong, but other than that, he seemed not to be much harmed that any other time he had transformed.

Finally lying on the floor as a human, he could not help but sigh in relief.

With an almighty effort, Remus stood up and, focusing hard, he summoned his wand from the small ledge on top of the wooden threshold. He was feeling even stronger after this transformation, but he knew better as to belief Tonks' potion had nothing to do. It was probably just him, way too eager to see her again and tell her the good news.

Some scratching in the door told him that Sirius was back.

"Rise and shine," he called, the second after he transformed.

"Morning," Remus said, putting on a t-shirt.

"Look at you, up and ready."

"Look at you, in a good mood," Remus retorted.

"Oh, well, I have reasons to," he said, pointing his wand at Remus. "Something you need me to patch up for you before I summon the fair maiden?"

"Shoulder," Remus muttered, clenching his teeth as the sleeve of the shirt made him move it in a strange angle.

"Right."

A moment later he could feet it all fitting into place. Feeling way too tired, he sat on the bed, taking in their surroundings almost as if it was the first time.

"We did make a mess about," Sirius commented, straighten up a fallen chair. "It's just lucky I put some extra silencing charms on the place or Tonks would've stormed in thinking that I was killing you."

"What's with the cheerfulness?" Remus asked with a little difficult. His throat felt raw.

Sirius was actually beaming. "I saw Andromeda yesterday. And Ted. Tonks took me."

"She did?" for a moment he felt he should get angry at her; even though he had taken Sirius out, after his going to King's Cross he had almost decided not to do it again.

He could understand Tonks tough, and the way Sirius looked was speaking volumes about how good it was for him just to get about a little. He, Remus, was not going to be the spoilsport of the situation.

"You've got yourself a great girl there, you smarmy git."

Remus chuckled, and regretted it at once when his lungs protested.

"You've told me."

"And I'll repeat it as many times as I have to."

"Could you…?"

"Yeah, all right, I'm not the one you want to see, I get it. Don't worry, I'll go get her." And still smiling, he went out.

Remus did not want to wait, and wondered if he could carefully climb downstairs. He did not need to, though. Slowly, the door opened and she was there, standing at the threshold, with large dark circles under eyes that were looking at him wearily.

With some energy he did not know he still had, he crossed the room and hugged her.

"I'm all right, you did it... I'm all right."

* * *

**Tonks' Chapter 67 as well.**

**Louey06, SoiSoi, Mickey S. J. Reilly, Blue Luver5000, tt crews, MuggleCreator, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, roflschvuakomail, thepipercuriosity, QueenCobraWing, and Andrewthegreat1, thank you all for all your wonderful support! **

**Cheers!**


	68. Telling himself over and over

_November, 1995._

He was telling himself over and over again that this was indeed the wrong place to be, that there were many other places he could watch and many other suspects he could follow. And yet, whenever he had a chance, he would pick this location and he would keep a look on Yaxley's house.

If he had come here once, how could he be sure Wormtail would not come back? This had been the only place where he had been seen after Harry's encounter with him in that graveyard, months ago.

But was he, Remus, absolutely sure that rat he had seen had been Peter Pettigrew? Now, after the weeks passed, he was starting to doubt himself. It it had been dark on that occasion, he had been at a considerable distance from the house and on that area it was not strange at all to see small animals lurking about.

And yet, he could still remember it, that strange glow coming from the rat's front paw, the purposeful way in which the small animal had headed towards the house and inside, the somewhat stealth movements it had made...

Remus sighed an rubbed his hands trying to keep them warm. Vapour formed around him and he regretted the gesture at once, the Disillusionment charm casted on him would not hide it and that small cloud could give him away if he was not careful.

His being uncomfortable and the dim chances there were to actually see the rat again were not strong enough to make him leave; the main reason for him being there was Sirius. Since the kids had gone back to Hogwarts and the Weasleys had moved out number 12, Grimmauld Place, he had grown moodier and it was more frequent every time to find him clutching a bottle of Elf-made wine, or just sulking upstairs with Buckbeak in his mother's room.

Remus and Tonks had tried to smug him out the house as often as possible, disguised as Padfoot, and those escapades had proven to lift up his mood for a while. But it was not good enough, not nearly good enough, and both Remus and Tonks knew it.

And after Remus had had to report to the rest of the Order his seeing Wormtail, things had gotten worse. Sirius had not said much but Remus had seen hatred and even pain glowing in his eyes. He would not say much these days, but just thinking about his imprisonment would make Remus come here once more and wish he had not been mistaken that time, and that the rat would come again.

He was almost sure Moody had wanted to oppose to his spending so much time here, but he had not. Remus also suspected that, if somebody would understand what all this meant for him and for Sirius, that one was the old Auror, and thus, he had just grunted when Remus had reported he would focus on this house, without questioning his reasons or trying to stop him.

So once more here he was, passing the night crouched behind some bushes, checking on his Disillusionment charm from time to time, and desperately hoping he would not be wasting his and the Order's time with what was starting to feel as an obsession.

When he heard the rustling of the grass, he wanted to believe it all had not been in vain. It was something small; he could not really make it out from where he was hidden near the woods, but something was indeed crawling towards the big house.

He had to act quickly, before whatever it was could get near the grounds and into its protection.

"_Accio!_" he whispered, pointing his wand at the moving thing.

Something hairy and small, and very alive, touched his hand and before he could even register what it really was, he was spinning in place and Disapparating.

His wand pointing at the thing on his hand, he was ready to attack the moment he Apparated.

The animal bit his finger with a small growl, making him almost drop it. It was a fox. Just a small, vary scared fox he had grabbed from one leg.

Saying that after that he had felt very stupid would have been an understatement. Without worrying about where they were, he dropped the small animal and, with a large sigh he Disapparated again, towards the house he now knew by heart.

It happened to him once more. This time, in order to be sure, he waited for a couple of seconds before summoning the animal and spinning away from the spot. The small, grey creature had been a hare, looking at him with frightful eyes and trying desperately to fee from Remus' grasp.

He really needed to move on. More than a month had gone by and all his surveying of the house had produced nothing that could be useful to the Order. He had hardly had a glimpse of the Yaxley's themselves, mere silhouettes behind the drawn curtains. It was clear they were using the Floo network to come in and out of the house.

Thinking along these lines, he barely heard the very soft rustle coming from near the gates.

Should he summon the thing? How could he be sure he would not be aiming for another fox? He could not, but had nothing to lose.

Carefully aiming towards the source of the noise, he casted the spell.

A moment later, the now familiar sensation of something small and hairy moving in his hand told him he had not missed his target. Just like he had done the previous times, he did not wait to see what it was; less than a second later, he was Disapparating, getting the thing away from the house and from any protection that could come from it.

The forest he had chosen was one he had been to, to transform, more than once. It was much colder here than where they had been, in the proximity of the Yaxley's house. The trees towered on Remus and his pray, their branches high up against the starless night, and the ground was covered with dry leaves. He could barely take notice of all this, though, because the moment they had stopped spinning, the thing in his hand had twitched and jumped and he lost his grip on it.

It was a rat, one he could have recognised anywhere in the world, and it was running away from him, as fast as its small paws would allow it on the uneven surface. Remus did not hesitate and, again, pointed his wand at it. White-bluish light emerged from it and another flash of light told him that he had touched his target.

He saw the shape of the rat grew larger and human arms and legs emerging from the small hairy body at top speed. The creature scrambled around, Remus could see the body trying to get on its feet. A heart-beat later Peter Pettigrew's human eyes were looking at Remus, his wand on his right hand, pointing straight at him. The hand Voldemort had given him.

"R-Remus," he stuttered, slightly breathless. "You scared me… I didn't know…"

"You should be scared," he said, pointing his wand squarely at him, surprised that his voice sounded this calm, when on the inside he could feel anger boiling. It was not only that. At the sight of his old school friend, just as it had happened that night in the Shrieking Shack, memories flooded in and a strange mixture of feelings seemed to be battling inside Remus.

He did not look as he had done then. It seemed now that he had had many square meals and something in his demeanour was unsettling. That time he had been scared, pleading. Now his stand was less pathetic, in his small watery eyes there was loathing along with a shadow of the lack of confidence Remus knew and identified with Pettigrew.

"_Expeliarmus_!" Remus cried.

He could see, in less than a second, the silvery hand tracing a quick arch with the wand and then he felt the force of his own spell bouncing off the shield Wormtail had casted. He staggered, and desperately felt his wand escaping from his grip, to land several meters away from him.

Wormtail blinked, looking at the wand in his hand. He seemed to be as surprised as Remus was at such powerful display of magic.

There was no time to dwell on that, though, and Remus launched towards his own wand. He had to duck a flash of purple light coming from Wormtail's wand, narrowly missing him. He turned around, a second lost to his own incredulity. Had he actually shot…?

He could not thing any further, Wormtail was approaching him, his wand steady. Remus' own wand was buried somewhere among the many dry leaves on the ground. He had to do something.

Concentrating hard, Remus felt the heat on his hand. It would not be enough, that sort of wandless magic was not very powerful, but perhaps it could distract Wormtail long enough to buy him some time. With a small grunt, he took the bluish flames and threw them with all his might towards his attacker.

He saw out of the corner of his eyes that Wormtail had stepped back a little to dodge the flames. It had been the split second he had needed. After some scrambling on the ground, he finally felt the familiar texture of his wand and spun around, pointing it at Wormtail again.

His eyes were travelling from his own wand and to Remus', still sitting on the ground but pointing at him as firmly as possible.

"You used to be left-handed," he suddenly said.

What an odd thing to remember. He could not help it, though. Images of himself, many years younger, with James, Sirius and Peter seemed to be almost as solid as his present reality. He could see his younger self, practicing some spell learned in class or simply doing magic for the pleasure of it, and his friends joining in, and Peter... Peter had always been hopeless at duelling, hopeless at a rather large amount of things that would require pointing his wand at something. And yet, there he was, having just casted the most powerful Shielding Charm Remus had ever seen and some other jinx he could not even identify.

"The Dark Lord gives very powerful gifts to those who are loyal to him," Wormtail said, and Remus could not distinguish if the tone he was using was reverent or scared. Or maybe just both. He raised his silver hand a bit, almost as if he was showing it off to Remus.

He had heard Harry's story, both from Dumbledore and Sirius, he knew about that hand, given as a replacement of his old human one, the one that had brought Voldemort back to life. Was it possible that with it, Wormtail had got much more in return?

"You didn't seem to be this loyal the last time we met," Remus replied, hastily springing on his feet, ready to cast a Shield Charm of his own. "If I recall correctly, you said you were acting on his orders only because you were scared of him. That doesn't sound very loyal to me, to tell you the truth. But then again, what do you know about loyalty?"

"You have no idea of what you're talking about?" Wormtail blurted out.

"Do you?"

"I've seen things, Remus, done things you would've think were impossible." He was breathing fast now, his watery eyes gleaming, "There's something entirely new out there for those who are cunning enough to reach for it-"

This time Remus laughed humourlessly.

"Cunning? You're calling yourself cunning?" the boiling rage, growing inside him, seemed to be about to explode. He was filled with fury, fed by all those years lost on hatred and regret, by all those deaths and by Sirius' imprisonment. Remus had wanted to capture Wormtail first; now, that did not seem to be very important. He just wanted to hurt him, to make he feel at least a portion of what he, Sirius and Harry had felt through all these years. "Let me tell you something, you filthy rat," he took a few steps in Wormtail's direction, not caring that his wand was still pointing at him. Despite his previous bravado, Wormtail flinched a little and Remus could see fear in his eyes "While you're acting as Voldemort's errand boy, there are men and women, good people, risking their lives and whatever they've got to fight for a better life for all of us! And here you are, talking about being cunning? And reaching for things?"

A flash of light erupted from Wormtail's wand and Remus reacted just in time. His own shield was not powerful enough, and again he tripped on the ground by the force of whatever Wormtail had casted in his direction, only this time he did not lose his grip on the wand.

Wormtail was looking at his wand again; his initial incredulous demeanour was giving away to a smirk that made his expression unrecognisable to Remus. He had very rarely seen small Peter Pettigrew smirk like that.

For the first time since the rat had transformed, Remus felt something a lot like fear, uncomfortable and cold, sliding down his spine. He had never felt scared of Peter but now everything was so different. What was that silver hand capable to do? What was Wormtail capable to do with it?

"_Secumsempra_!" Wormtail cried, almost as if he wanted to answer Remus' mute question.

He was ready this time though, and instead of trying for a Shield Charm, he jumped to his side to dodge the spell, his wand still pointing at Wormtail. A slash opened among the leaves, were the spell had crushed with the ground, and earth and pebbles darted in every direction.

"_Stupefy_!" Remus tried again, moving fast to avoid the bouncing of the spell hitting him again.

The silver hand waved and Remus realised that, no matter how strong a spell he could produce, it would not touch Wormtail; whatever new magic he now had, his courses and counter-courses were too quick and precise for him.

"_Crucio_!" Wormtail yelled. Remus moved away a moment too late, and felt the spell hitting him on the back.

The pain spread all over his body and he felt on the floor, convulsing, his ears ringing and his eyes shut, paralysed by a pain that was even worse than that of his monthly transformations.

As suddenly as it came, it went away, and with an almighty effort, Remus stood up, ignoring the trembling on his knees. Wormtail would keep on striking, he was sure of that, and he needed to be ready to dodge the curses, while thinking of a way of taking that wand of its silvery grip.

Wormtail did not cast another spell, though.

"How does it feel, eh, Remus?" he spoke slowly, looking at him with a nasty grin. "How does it feel to be the reason why everything's messed up?"


	69. How does it feel, eh, Remus?

_"How does it feel, eh, Remus? How does it feel to be the reason why everything's messed up?"_ Wormtail's words seem to reverberate in the woods and inside Remus' ears.

"Wh-What are you talking about?" he said, trying to take advantage of the sudden pause to calm both his voice and his body.

"That night, remember? You had me; you and Sirius had finally got to me. All would've been solved."

Remus was not sure he was following Wormtail's train of thought, but he embraced himself nonetheless for whatever it was that might come; something strong enough to make Wormtail sneer, and his eyes glow with a maniac glow.

"You were going to take me to the Ministry and I was going to confess, wasn't I?" he continued, talking faster. "You were going to tell everybody that I was alive and that it had been me, not Sirius, who had sent the Dark Lord to kill them all those years ago." Finally Remus understood, and something much more unpleasant than fear filled his insides the moment he realised where Wormtail was heading to. "You had even had it all figured out before you made me transformed. You'd seen me in the map, you'd seen Sirius, you'd realised what had happened…"

Remus felt it was getting difficult to swallow. The air around them seemed to be much colder now; it was the same nasty feeling of being in the presence of dementors and it was getting more intense with every word. Even after the incredible displays of magic Wormtail had just performed, he realised he was much more scared about what he knew and what he could say to him.

"But you had to mess it up for everybody," Wormtail said unnecessarily. "You had to mess it up for Sirius."

Remus did not know what to say, he wished he had not heard it. Wormtail was just taunting him, aiming for him to lose concentration when he needed it the most, and Remus knew that... nothing he knew, though, could prepare him for the fact that he seemed to be succeeding.

Almost desperately, Remus looked at his surroundings, searching for a way to distract him, to make him lose control of that wand or, at least, to make him stop talking. It was useless, the words, and the images they recreated, seem to have taken control of him and he could not produce a single idea about what to do next.

"You would've killed me, I know." Wormtail continued, his breathing fast again, and his small eyes bright with excitement. "And Sirius too. And then that kid had to ruin it all for you. Trying to be all noble and fair, just like his father. But at the end it's you they should be blaming, isn't it? Your being a werewolf always getting in the way of important things."

It felt as physical pain. The ideas were not new; Remus had gone through them over and over again during the past year. Despite of Sirius reassuring him more than once that he was not to blame, he could not shake off that feeling. If he had not been so foolish, if he had not been so reckless and had forgotten to take his potion, all would have been different not only for Sirius and Wormtail, but for Harry, who would have had his godfather back. Even for him, who could have been allowed to stay at Hogwarts and continue doing what he loved to do.

It could have been different in so many different ways. No matter how hard he tried to think about how nobody really knew what could happen if some little detail in the past had been different, he could not shake off the idea: had he not been so foolish, could their capture of Wormtail have prevented even the coming back of Voldemort?

"So it's you I have to thank… you and that Potter boy. How stupid, really, just like James…"

This time Remus did not think. Rage boiling inside him, clouding his sight and fogging his mind, made him launch himself towards Wormtail, ready to hit him, to strangle him, to finally capture him no matter how.

Again, he saw fear in the small eyes but a second later, he was flying back, having been pushed by that inexplicable invisible force coming from Wormtail's wand.

Yet again, Remus felt on the ground heavily, his hand desperately gripping the handle of his wand so hard he could feel blood pulsing through his fingers.

He had to get up, he needed to move.

He felt steps and Wormtail's wand was pointing at him again.

"You're going to kill me," Remus said in a hoarse whisper.

Wormtail did not spoke, nor did he lower his wand. He seemed to be trying to decide what to do next.

Remus knew what he would have done in his place. The intelligent thing to do would be to capture him and bring him to Voldemort for questioning. If that was the case, he had been mistaken, Wormtail would not want to kill him. But being captured into those conditions would be simply unthinkable!

"_Reducto_!" Remus whispered, quickly pointing his wand at Wormtail's feet.

He blocked the spell again, but this time Remus saw his wand vibrate on his grasp.

A moment later he was standing again. A yet of red light burst from Wormtail's wand and Remus rolled on the ground and stood up quickly, just on time to dodge another flash of light, this time green. He fired a curse of his own and, almost predictably, he saw it ricocheting off the invisible protection casted by Wormtail.

Yet another flash of light flew in his direction, and Remus had to jump swiftly, automatically casting a Shield Charm even though he was now sure there was little it could do. He almost tripped with the root of a tree, and hid behind the large trunk just in time to protect himself from Wormtail's next curse, that hit the tree and made its trunk shake.

"You're just making this longer and more difficult for yourself," Wormtail said, and Remus felt some sort of wry satisfaction on realising that, despite of the smirks and the sneer in which he had been spoken, there was still fear on his voice.

"How so?" Remus asked, his own voice quivering a little. He could see Wormtail slowly walking in his direction; he needed more time to catch his breath and think of a way to capture him. He just had to.

"You've seen what I can do now. You know there's no way for you to escape."

"There is nothing _you_ can do," Remus said, trying to put as much contempt as possible in his voice, while putting the trunk of the tree between Wormtail and himself. He knew it was a very weak protection, but he needed at least that in order to gain some time and think of a way to get to him. "Everything you've yet accomplish is because of that thing you now have instead of a hand."

"It's the proof I'm worthy enough!" he snapped.

"But it's not you and you know it. You know that, without that hand, you are just nothing. A hopeless traitor!"

A yell of rage was the only thing Remus could hear before feeling the tree trunk tremble. Just in time he jumped out of the way, casting another Shield Charm. At his back, the tree collided, shattered in thousands of chips.

"You see?" Remus said again, trying hard for his voice to show the calm he was not at all feeling. "That's not you."

"It doesn't matter!" Wormtail cried, casting something in Remus' direction. His aim was not that good anymore, and Remus hardly had to move in order to avoid it. He shot a curse of his own, careful to calculate where it would bounce in case that Shield was still on place.

With another cry of rage, Wormtail casted a red jet of red light and this time Remus had to move quickly. Apparently his attacker was recovering, or perhaps it was just the magic coming from that hand.

The spell hit the ground, and again Remus almost tripped with some large roots at the base of another tree. Just in time he steadied himself, standing, again, behind of the tree trunk for protection, though feeble it could be.

It had given him an idea, though. Perhaps there was a way to get Wormtail.

Getting away from the tree, moving as quickly as he could he casted another curse, this time towards the branches above Wormtail's head. The noise was strong and, in their fall, the branches made clouds of dirt that obscured Remus' vision. There was a loud groan among the sounds of falling wood; he had managed to hit his target.

With long, fast strides, he approached the sound.

Wormtail was lying on his back, trapped by a very large branch that had fallen on his legs. He was pointing his wand at it but Remus was quicker.

"Don't move," he said, pointing his own wand at Wormtail's chest.

"Remus…" Wormtail whispered, and for a split second Remus remembered the boy again, Peter, calling after him, asking for help with a homework or joining in a conversation, planning along James, Sirius and himself the next full moon escapade.

He saw it a split second too late.

Wormtail had pointed his own wand to the earth next to him and the next thing Remus knew was a loud, strong explosion that had sent him flying into the air again.

He fell on the ground and hit his head with a stone, while a shower of pebbles, broken branches and leaves covered him.

With impatient movements of his arms he tried to avoid getting hit; he needed to get up, he needed to get to Wormtail. It had been so close!

Finally he stood up but his kneed buckled, he tried again, as quickly as he could, moving around and pointing his wand at the settling dust, searching for Wormtail and ready to cover himself if he saw a curse flying in his direction.

There was nothing to see, though.

He was by himself on the forest. Wormtail was gone.

But was he, really?

Remus strained his ears, trying to hear the soft rustling of rat's steps, or a ragged breathing, or the loud _crack_ of an apparition. Even though he was aware that, with the racked caused by flying branches and falling earth, he could well have missed all of that.

He looked around again, gripping his wand firmly, ready to defend or attack, ready to do something. Only then it occurred to him. Perhaps Wormtail had not just fled, perhaps he had gone to call for help and he would be back in a second's time, with a bunch of Death Eaters that would help him finally take Remus down.

But why had not he done so when he had had the chance? He had pointed his wand at Remus' feet, but he could have pointed it to his chest as well. Had he wanted to spare Remus? Had be shown, even for a second, a little loyalty that years of friendship might have left in him? It was more than doubtful. That was not how Wormtail acted; he was probably fetching some help, so he would be sure he would capture Remus and survive to tell the tale. There was no point of staying and it would be beyond foolish to try to defend himself from more than one Death Eater, even without considering that very queer silvery hand.

Remus took a last sweeping look all around the place. The dust had finally settled and the clear in the woods made by the tree destructed by Wormtail's wand, had an eerie air of a place outside this world.

There would be no point for Remus to continue surveying the Yaxley's house. Wormtail would not be as foolish as to show up there again, of that he was sure. And once more, he had let that rat escape from his grip while letting his friends down.

With a loud sigh, Remus thought about that one place that might bring him some comfort, and Disapparated.

* * *

**AN: Many thanks to catwalkingowl, MuggleCrator, Louey 06, Blue Luver5000, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, roflshvuakomail, nymous, Andrewthegreat1, SuperWriterToTheRescue, loveislouder94, QueenCobraWing, Mickey S. J. Reilly, Masks and Teapots, Snarky64, WiseGirl25!**


	70. Hello', he called

"Hello," he called tentatively.

The flat was empty, as it was expected.

On the living room, her scent lingered and, almost unconsciously, Remus took a deep breath, feeling that is was the first in a very long time. An assortment of clothes told him that she had left on a hurry and the thought of her running from one room to the other, probably trying to find her badge or her jacket, made him smile. He regretted the gesture, as intense pain on his jaw made him almost groan aloud.

It was still too early for Tonks to be back from his night shift at the Ministry.

For a moment, right after realising he had to get out the woods just in case Wormtail would come back with reinforcements, he had considered just going back to number 12, Grimmauld Place, and taking care of his wounds there, but he just was not in the mood. Mundungus had been there for a fortnight, keeping Sirius company and, Remus suspected, lying low for unknown reasons. He did not want to join in their non-stop consuming of Firewhiskey and hundred years old Elf-made wine, courtesy of the Most Obnoxious House of Black. But more than that, he did not want Sirius to ask why was he looking as if he had been run over by the Knight Bus several times, nor was he keen to explain how her only lead to Wormtail was now gone. Not to him anyway.

And so suddenly it almost scared him, the idea had popped into his mind, replacing his second thought of going back to his flat. She, that scent, that place that was filled with nothing but good, warm memories. Without a second hesitation, he had Apparated to her landing.

Nevertheless, he was still not entirely comfortable with being at her flat on his own. She had told him, of course, that he should drop by whenever he fancied. She had even scolded him the last time he had knocked, telling him the he already knew the defensive spells on her door and why on Earth would he not just use them and come inside.

It had produced Remus a self-conscious satisfaction to see her worked up like that.

Just as an extra measure, he walked around the flat. From his perch on top of her wardrobe, Tonks' owl looked at him with contempt, but he was getting used to that.

The rush of the fight having passed, he was starting to feel pain in different parts of his body and he could bet he was not looking his best either. He wished, though, that it would be just pain what he was feeling; that would have been a relief. Along with sore muscles and stinging wounds there was shame, crawling down on him almost as if it was a spell somebody had just casted on top of his head. And with it, that thing that had boiled inside him in the forest, when he had had to duck spells and cast his own while trying to forget who he was fighting, seemed to be coming back.

With tentative steps, he entered the small bathroom.

Remus stood in front of the mirror. It was much more serious than he had expected, but not as bad as he had been after particularly painful transformations. Still, there were wounds he had to take care of, and his clothes were not in a fit state either.

Taking his eyes off the mirror, he sighed and opened the tab. The sound was almost too loud for the empty apartment, but nothing compared to the roaring that had started inside his own head. In a futile attempt to drawn it all, he washed his face and grimaced at the water touching his wounds.

He saw his hands dripping blood and dirt; it all would be washed away. All but what was inside him, and the thought that he had not yet allowed to form suddenly seemed to glow inside his mind.

_He had been so close. So bloody close!_

He punched his fists against the sink, and both his and Tonks' toothbrushes trembled a little. He took no notice and punched again, ignoring the escalating pain on his knuckles. It had been so close! He had seen Wormtail, he had fought him... and he had lost.

It had depended on him; it had been in his hand... if only he had just...

With a loud groan he punched again, this time aiming for the wall. The small stain of blood he left told him nothing. His fist collided with the white tiles again, and again, releasing some of his frustration and hoping for... for what? He _was_ hopeless and he had ruined it again. Just the way he had done that other night at Hogwarts, when he had seen Peter and Sirius again after all those years.

Just as he had failed all of them, James, Lily, Harry, Sirius, almost fifteen years ago, he remembered with another punch, when he had allowed it all to happen; when he had failed to see Wormtail's real intention.

His fist was ready to strike another blow when he felt as if an invisible force was making him stop. Remus opened his eyes, he had not even realised he had shut them tight. However, it was not his but her eyes he saw, her reflection on the mirror over the sink. She was standing behind him, silent, looking at him without blinking, his mouth forming a thin line he did not remember having seen before. On her right hand her wand rested, her fingers loosely holding it.

How long had she been there, looking at him losing control the way he just had?

"I…" he said, and his voice sounded raspy, hoarser than usual.

He became suddenly much more aware of how dishevelled he was looking, covered in dirt, dead leaves and blood that was starting to dry on the rags that no long ago were his robes.

Why had he come here in the first place?

The eyes on the mirror both scared and mesmerised him, and he had to make an effort to look away and turn around, to face her.

"I…" he repeated lamely, his mind empty of words, but full with so many emotions he was hardly able to distinguish one from the next; anger, shame, pity, disappointment, rage, all coming on him in rapid succession.

She looked at him for what seemed like an eternity and, without saying a word, she stored her wand on an inside pocket of her robes and stepped forward. Remus flinched, he did not want her to get closer, he did not want to infect her with what he was, he did not want to inflict on her the shame of his failure.

Tonks did not get closer, but headed to the towel rack and grabbed a small one. Remus looked fascinated as she passed next to him and placed the towel under the still running water. Almost as if she was deliberately trying to be slow, she closed the tab with quiet movements and squeezed the towel until it was not dripping anymore.

She was looking at him again, but not into his eyes; she was looking at his face and Remus saw a small crease forming between her eyebrows. She stood in front of him, and very slowly, she took his chin with her free hand. Remus wanted to say something, he wanted to protest, to tell her he was all right and shake her off, but he knew it was pointless… he was not even sure if he wanted her to stop.

So he closed his eyes, and a moment later he felt the damp cloth on the side of his face. It burnt but the fresh water was a relief. Very slowly, Tonks traced the wound and he did not open his eyes until he stopped feeling her touching him. She was rinsing the towel, squeezing it again. This time he saw her standing on the tips of her feet and reaching up; he had seen the slash over his left eye too.

As silent as her, he took a step and sat on the border of the bathtub. The corners of her lips twitched a little, although the crease on her forehead was still in place.

With the same quiet calm she had used on the first one, she cleaned his second wound and then a third one on his nape. He remembered having hit a stone when one of Wormtail's spells had sent him flying to the ground, and he wished to touch it and feel how large the lump was. He did not, though; he did not want to disturb the delicate balance of the moment.

Finally Tonks got that wound sorted out, and after washing the towel again, she stretched her hand. Remus looked at it, uncertain of what do to.

"Your hands," she said, and Remus all but wished he could make something out of her tone. He obeyed nonetheless, and it took her much less time to clean the fresh wounds he had just opened on his knuckles.

He could not look at her any longer. She was cleaning after him, his shame, his lost of control, his weakness. He wished for it all to go away just as easily as the blood.

"You might want to take a shower," she said.

He looked at her again, and was met with that blank expression, so unusual in her. He wanted to know what she was thinking and he was dreading it at the same time; he had no idea how to voice anything anymore.

Instead, he just nodded.

"I'll get you fresh clothes," she added.

"Tonks," he called after her, right when she had turned around. She looked back at him; a mute question had replaced the thin line of her lips.

Remus still did not know what to say, so he took a step forward and opened his arms. Her response was immediate and he heard her sighing against his chest.

"I'm glad you're all right," she said, her voice muffled against his robes.

He still had no idea of what to say, so he let go of her. Finally he could see her smiling and even though it was far from her usual more enthusiastic displays, it was warming and welcome.

Without another word, she exited and closed the door behind her.

He did not want to think any more, so he did what she had suggested, and let a fair amount of warm water wash over his tired body. He heard her enter and going out again, as silently as she had taken care of his wounds. When he finally got out, he found a faded set of pyjamas he had left some nights ago, neatly folded and waiting for him.

He knew that going out would mean having to answer a good deal of questions; she deserved nothing less than that, so there was no point on delaying it. And although it coasted him a lot to admit it, he wanted to be near her again, he wanted her to hug him again, and to repeat she was glad he was all right.

Tonks was in the kitchen, her back to the door, but as soon as he stepped inside, she turned around.

"Soup?" she said, pointing at something steaming at the stove.

"I'm sorry I came in like this, I shouldn't-" he said.

"Bollocks," Tonks said, filling one plate with hot liquid.

"It's not. I'm-"

"Eat that," she said, placing the plate in front of him. "Don't worry; it's Molly's, so it'll be perfectly fit for human consumption. I just reheated it."

Remus took the spoon she handled him, but he did not eat until she sat in front of him, carrying a plate of her own.

With a small smile, she started eating a Remus followed his example, realising he had been hungry and cold. He wondered what would she ask first and try to think of a way to justify what had happened or, seeing that it would be impossible, to at least explain it.

She did not ask a thing, though, and in his mind, his explanations got mixed with questions of his own.

"Why haven't you asked me what happened?" he suddenly blurted out, as Tonks finished scraping the rests of her soup with a piece of bread.

Tonks looked at him.

"D'you want to tell me?"

Remus considered the question for a moment. He had been dreading he would have to tell somebody, eventually, and even though he did not particularly wanted it, he had had the certainty he ought to; that certainty had never allowed the possibility of a choice.

"It's not a matter of wanting or not, isn't it?"

She sighed, and took her plate to the sink. He had the impression she was trying to buy some time in order to think carefully what she was about to say.

"You scared me," she said before turning around. "I came in and heard the noise…" she faced him, that frown in place again. "And there you were, lost to the world and I've never seen you like that-"

"I was just-"

"I know what it feels like," she interrupted. "I may not have had that much experience, but I've had a handful of days in which I felt everything crumble around me."

"It's nothing like that."

"You don't know," she said simply. "What I'm trying to say here is that I have no idea of what you need. I didn't have a clue when I found you there and I am not that sure now, either. I just thought you'd let me know, eventually. And until then, what sort of person would I be if I'd started pestering you with stupid questions?"

Remus sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

"I'm sorry I lost control like that," he finally said.

"I'm glad you did," she replied. "And I'm glad you were not on your own."

* * *

**AN: They told me I have to do the disclaimer thingy for every chapter. Sorry about that. I don't own Harry Potter, sadly, but I shamelessly play with its characters. Thanks JKR!**

**And thanks to all who took some time to review this tale: Louey06, Mickey S. J. Reilly, QueenCobraWing, login password (welcome back and thanks a heap!), SuperWriterToTheRescue, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, roflshvuakomail, MuggleCreator, loveislouder94, anita10 (thanks!) The Scratch Of Quills and Blue Luver5000.**

**If you're at all interested in Ron/Hermione fanfic, I suggest you go read "Seven Simple Years", by HalfASlug. I've finished it a couple of days ago and I'm still dreaming of it, it's genius!**

**Cheers!**


	71. He had been enjoying a very rare moment

**AN: Nope, Harry Potter is still not mine. As far as I know, J. K. Rowling still owns it.**_  
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_December 1995._

He had been enjoying a very rare moment of tranquillity at Tonks' flat when both Kingsley's message and Molly's Patronus had arrived almost at the same time.

Arthur had been attacked while doing guard duty inside the Ministry and she had been summoned. It had been hard looking at Tonks go, pale and somewhat fragile, but with a murderous determination in her demeanour. He had things to do as well, and wondering distractedly why Molly had asked him of all people, to go meet her, he had Apparated near the old building that hosted St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

When had crossed the depressing looking window of Purge and Dowse Ltd. and entered the Hospital, Molly was no-where to be seen. Past mid-night, the entrance hall was almost deserted, except for a plump blond witch sitting at a desk and reading a magazine.

Remus approached her and cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Arthur Weasley, he must have been brought in not long ago."

"No visitors," she muttered in a bored voice, not meeting Remus' eyes.

"I'm not a visitor, this is an emergency."

"Emergency, is it?"

"He just came in."

The witch took his eyes off the magazine with some reluctance and glared at Remus.

"Are you family of Mr. Weasley."

Remus knew that the honest answer would not take him much further.

"I'm his brother-in-law," he lied, hoping that amongst all Weasleys and Prewetts there would be one that would suit that description or, at least, that the witch would be oblivious to the fact that he had indeed known Molly's two older brothers and that both of them had passed long ago.

"Down the hall," she said, pointing at a door not far from the entrance and looking back at her magazine. "Primary Aid."

Remus thanked her and walked where she had pointed. There were two bright lime-green doors and he pushed one open. Inside, several Healers seemed to be busying themselves around a handful of beds separated with curtains. He stopped, not feeling sure if he should popped his head behind the curtains and look for Molly or Arthur.

He was saved from having to make a decision when Molly emerged from a cubicle half-way down the corridor.

She looked lost; Remus could distinguish her eyes were red and she had dark shadows under them. A second later she saw him and walked hurriedly towards him. Before he could say a thing, she hugged him.

"I'm so- so sorry, Remus. I know this was your night off, I'm so sorry, I just didn't-"

"It's all right, Molly, really," he muttered, patting her back. Long gone were the days when he had felt some sort of caution coming from her at his being a werewolf and he could barely remembering her behaving differently towards him. "What happened?"

She took a step back and drop onto a chair next to the wall. Remus sat next to her.

"I… I'm not sure. Something attacked Arthur. He's been unconscious most of the time, and he had not been able to tell us anything but… this is so strange," she said with a loud sigh. "Harry said he had a nightmare, he dreamt about a giant snake attacking Arthur, and he would not go back to sleep. Somebody woke Minerva up and she realised… somehow, this was not just a dream but some sort of premonition or… the fact is that that's what happened. Arthur had been there and judging for the bites, the Healers say it was a snake all right. A very big one."

"But how did Harry…?" Remus started to ask but there was no need of going any further. Dumbledore had feared this all along and Sirius had mentioned that sometimes Harry's scar would hurt or burn. Perhaps they had been right and there had been a connection.

"I just don't know. Dumbledore sent them to Headquarters, Ron, Harry, Ginny and the twins. I expect Sirius will be looking after them."

"He surely is," Remus said, trying to drown the slight tone of doubt in Molly's voice.

"I want to go and check on them, but I need to see what's going on here first."

"What did the Healers said?"

"They say he'll be all right. They're puzzled though, because the wounds keep on bleeding every time they take off the bandages and they haven't figure out yet how to make it stop. And meanwhile they didn't want to wake up Arthur…" she trailed off distractedly. A young wizard had emerged from the cubicle where Arthur was. He did not acknowledged their presence, though, but walked away in the opposite direction.

Molly sight. "They're so unnerving. They wouldn't tell me a thing," her voice broke a little and Remus produced a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his jacket.

"Here."

Molly took it with a trembling hand.

"Thank for coming here, Remus. I just… I didn't think I could do this on my own..."

"I'm sure you would be more than able to do this and much more on your own, but still, you know you can count on me."

She gave him a trembling smile.

"I know."

They stayed silent for a long moment and Remus had the impression Molly had dozed off. She had not, though; the minute another Healer exited from the cubicle after what seemed to be an eternity, she jumped on her feet and walked swiftly towards him.

"Please, I would like to-"

"He's all right," the Healer said dismissively. "You can go in now."

Molly entered, and Remus saw two other Healers leaving the cubicle. He could not help but notice that their lime-green robes were stained with large dark spots.

A moment later Molly went out as well and made him signs to come inside. After a moment of doubt, Remus obliged.

Arthur was lying on a bed, wrapped on sheets that had not yet been changed. The bed, the pans, the abandoned instruments, all their surrounding carried the signs of a long struggle. He was pale and a little shaky, but other than that he was smiling at Molly, his hand clutching hers.

"Remus," he said merrily, almost as if they were meeting just for the fun of it, "thank you very much for coming and helping Molly."

"It was nothing, Arthur," he said quietly, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, as well as one could have expected."

Remus knew they were to make a report on the incident but he was not sure how fit Arthur was to be questioned and recount what had happened to him that night.

"I don't suppose you... remember…?" he asked tentatively, looking both at him and at Molly.

"Yeah, Arthur, what happened?" she prompted, and Remus was glad.

"I am not sure how, but I was sitting… you know… _there_, and I suspect I doze off. I don't know what made me wake up all of a sudden, it just felt wrong, and I saw it. It was a snake, massive, and I tried to hex it but right after I had my wand pointing at it, it had bitten me on the leg, and it kept on attacking me… and afterwards the next thing I remember is waking up here."

"I wonder…" Remus said distractedly, trying to picture the scene in his mind. Molly was asking something and he realised, with relief, that she had not paid attention to him. He had almost said aloud that it puzzled him why the snake had refrained from finishing Arthur off. Not at all the right thing to say under present circumstances, but something they would have to look into.

"… off to see the children, then." Molly was saying and Remus' attention shifted to her again. "They must be worried sick."

"And you should get some rest too," Arthur said, gently touching her check with the tip of his finger. Molly blushed furiously.

"The other Healer said they were going to move you though."

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure they'll be able to tell you later where I am going to be."

"I'll stay," Remus said, "you go home and get some rest. If we need you, I'll send you a Patronus right away."

Molly doubted for a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other until she finally nodded.

"I'll be back soon, then," she said, kissing Arthur good bye. "Thank you," she added to Remus.

"Anytime, Molly," he said.

She looked at Arthur for a long moment, worry edged in her eyes, until finally, with a sigh, she walked out the cubicle.

* * *

Many hours had passed and Remus had seen the Healers move Arthur to the First Floor, into an area called "Creature-Induced Injuries". He knew those wards very well. The memories were from a time almost forgotten, when he had been a scared little boy and his parents had tried over and over for Healers to fix him with an assortment of treatments, charms, potions and incantations, none of which had worked at all. Walking down the aisles brought a flow of memories back, all very unpleasant.

One of the Healers had asked him to wait outside the ward; they were going to try a set of different spells in order to stop the bleeding from Arthur's wounds. Remus was more than eager to leave the place and, reassuring Arthur he would be nearby, he left.

Standing outside, looking at the close door, Remus suddenly remembered something else. He had not really forgotten them, of course, how could he? But he had not thought about them since he had taught at Hogwarts and had seen their son for the last time.

He was there; he ought to pay them a visit.

While climbing up the stairs he started feeling guilty. Why had he not come earlier, during all these years he had been back? He had asked Moody about them, and he had told him they were not a tad better than the day they had come to St. Mungo's to never leave the premises again. Maybe it had been it. In Remus' mind it was much easier to recall Frank and Alice looking powerful, healthy, firing curses at him in order to teach him how to fight, worrying over missions and missing members of the original Order of the Phoenix, that what he was about to face.

Replacing that with his last memory, that of two people looking at him blankly, confined to a permanent stay at St. Mungo's in a long-term ward seemed to be the cruellest thing to do and yet he owed them so much.

He had arrived at the fourth floor and paused in front of the sign. "Spell damage". He did not need to ask a Healer, he knew this is where they would be, damaged indeed. The exact ward where he could find them, though, he did not know. He did not want to look around wither so he waited. Several minutes later, a young Healer came out one of the doors.

"Excuse me," Remus asked, making her stop rather abruptly. "I'm looking for the Longbottoms. Do you know where…?"

She squinted her eyes and looked up and down him.

"Janus Thickey Ward," she finally said, pointing at a door at the end of the corridor.

"Thanks."

The door was closed and secured. Again Remus doubted. Should he try to open it with his wand or should he knock first? He decided to do the second and a moment later an elderly Healer opened the door, smiling brightly.

"Well, hello! What can I do for you?" she asked.

"Good morning," Remus said, taking aback by the contrast of the beds he could distinguish, with their gloomy occupants, and the joyful demeanour of the Healer. "I'm looking for Frank and Alice Longbottom."

The smile of the Healer grew even wider.

"How lovely!" she said, giving a step back to let him in. Remus noticed that immediately afterwards, she tapped the door with her wand. "I don't remember seeing you here before. Come with me, please."

She walked between the beds towards the far end of the ward. Most of the habitants were still asleep. Remus saw somebody covered in fur, snoring loudly and, right in front of her, a man hugging his knees, silently rocking back and forth.

"Here we are," said the Healer, pointing at the last two beds of the row.

Remus stood frozen for a moment, while the Healer, with a wave of her wand, closed flowery curtains around both beds. The occupant of the last one was still sleeping and Remus saw, out of the corners of his eyes, tufts of white hair over the blankets. His eyes were fixed on the other figure, though.

It was Frank all right, although it was almost as looking at a shadow of what the Auror had been. He looked thin and pale, and his greying hair seemed to have lost life.

"I'll leave you too to catch up, then, shall I?" the Healer's voice almost made him startle. She had grabbed a chair and placed it next to Frank's bed. "Please let me know when you're ready to go."

Remus just nodded, his eyes fixed on Frank's. He was looking at him without a sign of recognition or a gesture of any kind.

"Hello, Frank," Remus said in a low voice. Was it his imagination or Frank's eyes had widened a little at the sound of his own name? "Do you mind if I sit down?"

The man did not move, but Remus sat anyway. Now they were levelled.

"It's Remus," he said, feeling both stupid and at a loss of what else to do. "You… you trained me. Remember? I wanted to fight, only I didn't know how."

Frank remained motionless. It seemed he did not even need to blink.

"You trained me," Remus repeated, while images of Frank and himself kept on coming; both of them standing on the Longbottom's backyard, facing one another, their wands drawn. "You thought me a great deal of things, you and Alice did."

At the sound of his wife's name, he finally reacted. Something resembling a smile formed on his features and he turned to his other side, facing the other bed. Very slowly, he poked the sleeping figure a couple of times. It stirred and sighed; Remus both anticipated and feared what he was about to see.

Finally, the occupant of the second bed sat up. She looked much thinner than Frank in comparison. There was not a trace of the kindness Remus had been used to see in her face, or the calm happiness that had seemed to emanate from her most of the time; her white hair seemed to irradiate a lack of colour that echoed her lack of emotion. There was not a shade of energy; it seemed as if she and Frank had faded, almost as a very old black and white Muggle photograph. Her eyes rested on Frank for a while, and, just like him, she said nothing.

"Hello, Alice," Remus said, and this time she looked at him with a vague smile that did not resemble at all to the one he remembered.

He did not know what to say next. Both Longbottoms were looking at him, and he felt he just needed to talk, even if he could not understand him.

"Some of us have come together again," he started. There was no saying how safe would it be to tell them much and yet, at his heart of hearts he knew that talking about the new Order was something that would have interested them a lot, had the circumstances being different. "You wouldn't believe the new people that are joining. Some of them are really great. Some of the old ones are there too."

Frank did not look at him anymore, but started fidgeting with the hem of his sheets. Alice's eyes were still fixed on his, unblinking.

"I guess that…" Remus sighed. "I just wanted to apologise," he whispered, leaning forward a little, "I… I should've come earlier. You were always so great to me and, Alice," he looked at her, "I still do what you taught me to do, whenever I'm faced with Dementors. I also wanted to thank you. Both of you."

She had not made a sound, or a move, and Remus stared at her, trying to find in her haggard expression a trace of what she had been.

"AARGH!" Frank's yell made Remus jump and his chair stumbled over. He was trashing on his bed, pulling at the blankets, his eyes shut and his teeth clenched.

Remus looked around; he did not know what to do. A second later the Healer came, the smile gone.

"There, there," she muttered to Frank, pushing Remus aside "you'll be all right, dear."

She tried to approach the man, but he started moving arms and legs savagely. There was no way to get near him. At his side, Alice had cowered to the farthest corner at the feet of her own bed.

"Do you want me to-?" Remus started but the Healer ignored him. She had pointed her wand at Frank and an instant later his head had fallen on his cushion, still and limp.

"There you go," muttered the Healer, and then she faced Alice. "We're all right, Alice, dear, you see." She pushed her gently to the centre of her bed and arranged the covers around her. Remus did not want to look any further, but he could not turn his eyes away. "We're all right."

Finally the Healer straightened up and faced Remus.

"I think I should go," he prompted.

"You shouldn't worry much," she said, smiling again. "This happens to him once or twice a day. Sometimes even more than that. We don't know why, and we haven't been able to figure out what triggers it. He has some nasty memories of his own so I reckon it's no wonder…" she trailed off.

Remus looked at Frank, immobile on his bed, and at Alice, looking much calmer, her eyes fixed on her husband.

"Good bye, Alice," he muttered. "Say Frank… say Frank that…" he could not continue and, with a last glance at his old mentor and partner, he turned around and headed to the exit.


	72. Drinking the last of his hot cocoa

**I don't own Harry Potter. I wish, though.**

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_January 12th, 1996._

Drinking the last of his hot cocoa and looking at the embers on the large fireplace, he sighed and it took him a second to realised he was sighing in contentment.

It had been a good holiday season, all things considered. Of course, they were at war, or on the verge of it; of course there had been missions, most of them not really successful, but the fact that they were managing to have some sort of regular time and holiday cheeriness spoke volumes of who they were and of all the things they were actually fighting for. There was a time for fighting, of course, but what was the point if there was not as well a time for enjoying?

Two years before, he had been at Hogwarts, but he had not taken part of the celebrations. That time he had been ill for real, it had not been the usual lies he would tell around in order to hide his condition. And yet, it had been pleasant enough to get a couple of presents and a more than decent Christmas dinner.

Last year he had not been that good, and yet it had not been bad either. He had spent the holidays at his mother's house and the two of them had had a very good time. Actually, now that Remus was thinking of it, she had overdone herself on cooking as if they would be expecting an army of guests rather than just the two of them.

Tonks murmured something in her sleep and he smiled down at her. She was curled up, her head resting on his knees, a small smile on her lips. Playing with the curls of her black and red hair, Remus wondered what would she been dreaming of.

This Christmas had been different all right. Even though the place was less than perfect, after Sirius, Molly and the kids had finished with decorations, it had turned out very decent. Maybe the fireworks that erupted from time to time from the mistletoe at the entrance of the drawing room had been a tad too much, and it might have been better if they had not scared the pants off of Moody, but other than such minor incidents, he could not remember having enjoyed himself this much during this time of year.

There was only a detail though…

Almost as if Sirius had wanted him to remember, he heard his footsteps walking down the next floor corridor.

Earlier that day the kids had gone back to Hogwarts. Remus and Tonks had been tasked to take them on the Knight Bus, and even though Remus knew that sort of protection was more than necessary, he wished somebody had thought about how unwise it was to leave Sirius alone.

At the end, Molly and Arthur had stayed with him for most of the day, even though Remus was not sure that had been because of consideration to him or only because Arthur needed to recover a little before Disapparating back to the Burrow.

Even though he had been more than aware of every possible risk there was of taking the kids back to school in the Knight bus, and said risks they were taking were enough to keep himself and Tonks on edge, he had been thinking about Sirius too. There had been pain in his expression after seeing them leave and it had left Remus with more than a bitter feeling to think that there would be months, if that, before the house would be that full and cheery again; before Sirius would see Harry.

Of course they could take him out, disguised as Padfoot, but somewhat Remus was sure this sort of sneaking out would do nothing to cheer Sirius up. If anything, perhaps if would depress him further. It was insulting, really, having to pretend he was dog and Apparate on the middle of nowhere, just to get to stretch their legs and breathe normal air for a moment.

It was not right, and it could not go like this forever.

Suddenly it occurred to him.

With the new term having just started, what were the chances of Dumbledore, McGonagall or Snape coming to headquarters that evening? Close to zero. And if Mad-Eye would chose to make an appearance, he would think they had taken Sirius out in disguise and he was more than happy with that arrangement. If somebody else showed up… well, Sirius had been lurking upstairs for so long during the days prior to the holidays; it would not raise any suspicions not to see him around, really. Most of the Order members were trying to avoid him as it was, his mood oscillating between anger and gloominess.

Tonks murmured something and he looked down at her, she was not smiling anymore, although her eyes were still closed.

"Sorry?"

"You're fidgeting a lot," she repeated.

For Remus, it was almost like a sign.

"Wake up, I had an idea."

Tonks eyes snapped open.

"I love when you use that voice," she said, sitting up straight and rubbing her eyes. "It's your 'I'm up to no good' voice."

"I don't have an 'up to no good' voice," he protested.

"Yeah you do," she nodded vigorously and he could not tell if she was just emphasising her point or trying to wake up. "Although you usually use it when we're in my flat and without our clothes on."

Remus felt heat rising up his cheeks.

"This had nothing to do with it…"

"That's too bad," she said, but her smile was saying otherwise. "So, what's the idea?"

Remus left his now empty glass on the side table and stretched.

"We're going out," he said.

Tonks' smile grew wider.

"Great, I'm starving."

"And… we're taking Sirius with us."

"He could use a walk-"

"Not transformed, no. We take him as Sirius."

Tonks stared at him, her mouth slightly open. Without saying a word, she leaned over him and reached for the empty glass. Strongly resembling Mad-Eye, she sniffed it and then looked at him again, her eyebrow arched.

"What on earth do they put on that two hundred years old Elf-Made wine? You sure it's legal?"

Remus chuckled.

"I'm almost sure it is, and it wasn't wine. It was just cocoa."

"I have a slight cold," Tonks said, blushing.

"So, I can assure you I'm in full possession of my faculties right now. That's to say, well aware of the implications of what might or might not happen… and, I don't just think it's possible, I think we have to do it."

"Do what, exactly?"

Remus felt his own smile widening; it had been a while since he had had such a risky idea and had to convince somebody to go with it. As a matter of fact, the last time might had been back when he was at school.

"We're taking Sirius out to a pub or something of the sort. A Muggle pub. We transfigure him a bit, so he won't be recognised, and go to a place where he can find himself a lady or something."

As a reply, Tonks kissed him, rather harshly, and he could not help but feel proud.

"Have I told you that I love you?" she said after their lips parted.

"You might have, once or twice…"

"Well, I do. And may I add you're the most handsome man alive?"

He chuckled and stood up, taking her hand and pulling her gently.

"Let's go and tell him, then."

It took them some work to lure Sirius out his mother's room and that made Remus all the more convinced they were doing the right thing. He had grunted when he had offered more Firewhiskey and only looked at him, with her eyes vacant of all expression, when he suggested they should go out. They did not want to say inside the house what they were actually up to, just in case the house-elf would hear it and repeat it later to the people coming in and out headquarters. One thing would be for the rest of the Order to know they've been taking out in disguise. Remus' plan, he suspected, would be something they would not be too keen to accept.

"Allow me," Tonks finally said, entering the room and hastily bowing to Buckbeak.

"I'm fine, all right?"

"No you're not. And we're offering you the treat of your life here, so you're getting off your arse this instant and you're joining us downstairs. Now."

"No," Sirius replied stubbornly.

"Sirius, mate, have I ever…" he did not know how to phrase what was on his mind. "Have I ever had an idea involving you, me, and a witch, in the middle of the night, that hadn't turned out all right?"

Sirius looked at him for a long time.

"You've never had an idea involving you, me, and a witch, in the middle of the night. Plus, she's your girlfriend and my cousin, so she doesn't count as a girl…"

"Hey!" Tonks protested.

"But…" Sirius continued, now eyeing Remus, "there is this thing…" he finally stood up and approached him, stopping inches in front of him. "Yeah, that smirk something I haven't seen in a while. You're up to something."

"And, luckily for you, you're in it."

000

The pub was large and very crowded, filled with what was left of the holiday season's festiveness. There was large bar packed with people occupying tall stools, and several waiters walked loaded with glasses of beer, trying to avoid colliding with the costumers. On a corner there was a band, and a rather crammed group of people dancing and jumping.

Remus, grabbing Tonks' hand and being closely followed by Sirius, managed to find an empty table in a corner next to a window. It was so sticky he could not see a thing outside..

Sirius had sniggered, murmuring something about wanting to be in the thick of things, and disappeared into the crowd. For a moment, Remus feared they would not be able to find him later, but he decided, for once, to trust that he would behave.

When they had finally Apparated him, in his dog shape, near a large town up north, Sirius still believed they were just taking him for a walk. The moment they managed to convince him to transform back, and explained Remus' plan, Sirius' faced lightened up in a way he hadn't seen in a very long time. For a split second he even thought that, since beaming like that made him look nothing like the pictures the Ministry had distributed when he had escaped, they could even skip the entire transfiguration part.

They would not take any risks though. Ignoring Sirius' half-hearted protests, Tonks had pointed her wand at his face and murmured a flow of spells. Remus had seen Sirius' nose grow bigger, his beard disappear and his hair shortened, the colour a little lighter. Then, she had pointed her wand at his chest and Sirius' thin frame had gained some mass.

"I would do something else," Tonks had said, looking at him with her head tilted to the side, "but I don't want to make him look too ugly, what would be the point of that?"

"Too what?" At this, Sirius had looked around desperately, Remus was sure, for a surface in which he could look at his reflection.

It all was forgotten, though, the moment they entered the pub and, for the first time in months, Sirius was surrounded by people who had no idea who he was, and that would not look at him wearily or with some sort of pity in their eyes. Even under the transfigurations Tonks had performed, Remus could still distinguish Sirius' own expression of excitement and happiness.

"He'll be all right," Tonks' shouted into his ear, over the loud music of the pub.

"We should have done this before," he said.

She shook his head. "It's all right we did it now. I'll get us some drinks."

Afterwards, he could not recall exactly how the night had passed; he was only aware it had passed fast. At some point Tonks had grabbed his sleeve and had pulled him right in the middle of the dancing couples. He had felt self conscious, but a moment later it all had been forgotten.

Some couples in front of them, Sirius had embarked himself in some sort dance that was keeping him very close to his partner who did not seem to mind. Remus forgot him for a moment, until he heard Tonks laugh loudly and point at where he had been not long ago.

"That dirty mongrel," he read Tonks' lips. Sirius was retreating with the woman he had been dancing with, without as much as a look back.

"If he doesn't come back in time," Remus started to say into Tonks' ear.

"Then we leave him for good and if anybody asks, we'll just have to swear we don't know where he is," she prompted, laughter lingering in her eyes.

Sirius came back some time later. The pub was half-empty now and Remus had been starting to worry; out of the window he could see the greyish glow of dawn at the distance.

"Shall we?" Sirius asked nonchalantly. "Or do you two birds need more time?"

"Hark who's barking," Tonks said, standing up. "Aren't' you cold? You seem to have lost your jacket…"

"I'm always a gentleman, dear cousin of mine, and the lady was cold. Me, on the other hand, I'm way far from it."

Tonks shook her head in a gesture of disapproval, but Remus saw she was actually fighting hard not to laugh.

"Let's go, then," Remus said. "I wouldn't put it pass Molly to show up at headquarters with a cinnamon bun and plans for making breakfast for all of us."

"For a month," Sirius added, unable to keep the cheeriness out his voice. He opened the front door for them to exit.

"I could do with a hot bun," Tonks said, buttoning up her jacket.

"I already did," Sirius snorted.

"Spare us."

* * *

**AN: I'm sorry I couldn't update yesterday. Here you are and thanks a lot for your patience. **


	73. Somebody shuffling out of the fireplace

**AN: Nope, I don't own it. It's all Rowling's.**

* * *

_January 13__th__ 1996._

From the kitchen in Tonks' flat Remus heard somebody shuffling out of the fireplace; he smiled, she was finally coming back from her late shift at the Ministry. Some time passed, though, and no other sound came from the sitting room.

"Tonks?" he called out, taking off his wand.

The two of them and just a couple of members of the order where the only ones allowed using that fireplace; if it wasn't her…

He crossed to the sitting room in two long strides and arrived on time to see the silver light of a Patronus disappearing through the wall; a second later, he felt Tonks crash into his arms and hug him, trembling slightly, her breathing fast.

"What is it?" he asked urgently.

"It's started," she blurted. "The war has begun."

Remus felt something ice cold and heavy dropping into his stomach. He put her at arms length, trying to see if she was hurt.

"What are you-? Are you all right?"

"Remus, it was horrible! I... I don't know. It's horrible! Robarts… and Fudge…"

Carefully and slowly, even though he felt he was bursting to know what had exactly happened, he sat her on the couch and summoned a cup of tea he had been drinking.

"Easy, there," he muttered, handing her the cup, "it's fine, you're safe now."

"I'm not," she said, taking a large gulp of the tea and grimacing. He had forgotten she did not take any sugar with hers. She left the cup on the table with a loud cluck and, with a loud steadying sigh, she pressed her fingers on her eyes. "None of us is."

Remus put a hand on her back and traced slow circles on it. He had never seen Tonks looking this weak and defeated, nor had he seen so much fear in her before, not even that time when she had gotten caught by Greyback.

"There's been a breakout from Azkaban."

"What?" Remus' insides froze. It cannot be, the prison was being guard by… "…but the Dementors?

"Robarts reckons they're not longer in control of the Ministry. They've gone rogue or… you know, they've found themselves a new master, I suppose."

"But… but this means the Ministry will now have to admit…"

Tonks was shaking her head, his mouth forming an ugly grimace.

"Fudge won't admit a thing. I'm not even supposed to know any of this! I used the twins' Ears, and if he knew I'd heard on them, he would've had my memory wiped off."

"What are you on about?"

"I… it's an accident I found out," she pulled on the tips of her green hair. "I was a close call… so close."

A flash of silver light materialised in front of her and a lynx formed. It spoke with Kingsley's voice.

"We'll meet in half an hour at headquarters," it said, before dissolving.

"Good," Tonks murmured. "I sent Moody a Patronus the moment I came out the fire. I didn't want to risk sending it from the office."

Remus shook his head, it was all confusing.

"Can you… would you tell me what happened from the beginning?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too impatient.

She sighed again and flickered her wand. A moment later, a bottle of Butterbeer was zooming out of the kitchen. She opened it and took a generous gulp before speaking again.

"I was about to leave and come home," she started and Remus almost sighed aloud in relief he would finally get some answers for the thousand questions in his head. "And I met Robarts. You know, he's a tough Auror, always calm and ready for action, great dueller… and he was… he was looking scared off his bones, dripping wet and trembling, and babbling something about having to talk to Fudge. It took me a moment to remember he had been stationed in Azkaban for a while, and that's when I realised it must be something bad beyond regular."

She took another gulp of Butterbeer and Remus resumed his stroking of her back. He had gotten caught up with the story and he had remained motionless.

"So he went to Fudge and I followed. It was a risk, I know," she said defensively, "but I just had to find out. So I used one of those Ears and heard him telling Fudge. Death Eaters have escaped Azkaban, and not just two or three, a bunch of them. I… I can't remember all the names, but there was… there was Bellatrix Lestrange."

A very recent memory flooded into Remus' mind. Two people, lying on hospital beds on a permanent ward at St. Mungo's. Taking him out of it, Tonks stood up suddenly.

"We've got to get to headquarters; I'll tell you the rest of it there."

* * *

They were back home after one of the longest meetings of the Order of the Phoenix ever, even considering Remus' experiences during the first war. Even Dumbledore and Snape had come from Hogwarts, McGonagall had had to stay in charge.

Plans had been re-sketched. Some suspects had been erased from the lists and many more others had been added. They had summed a long list to the places they had usually guarded, retracing possible paths and trying to figure out new ones.

Somehow, Remus felt Tonks had been right when she had arrived home: The war had begun. All that had happened before had been only preparations.

When she had repeated the story, in a much calmer voice and keeping a professional air Remus had been proud of, the reactions had been various and not entirely unexpected. Mad-Eye had clutched the handle of his wand and both magical and normal eyes had remained focused on something invisible on the table. Sirius had let out several well chosen swear words that, for once, had not gained a reprimand from Molly. She had been silent, pale, her hands under the table holding, Remus was sure, Arthurs.

He had been the first one speaking, asking for details about Fudge.

Curiously enough, the think that had seemed to frighten them all the most had not been the escape of the Death Eaters, but the fact that afterwards Fudge had _Obliviated_ Robarts, preventing him from spreading the news.

"So," Tonks had said, shrugging a little, "I only found out by chance. Two Hit-Wizards died and the Dementors are no longer in our control. And Fudge is just talking about the panic it would cause if those news were out, so the only thing he's about to do it blaming it all on Sirius."

At this, Sirius had remained speechless, as if he could not find a swear word strong enough to sum up his feelings.

"That's unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected," Dumbledore had said.

"We need to do more, to reach further," Hestia had added.

"Aren't we doing all we can already?" Bill asked.

"It's not good enough," Moody had said curtly.

The maps they had, had been revisited. The placed they had been to, scratched. They had tried to connect possible links between the escaped Death Eaters and everybody they had already investigated.

Tonks started apologising for not having heard all the names Robarts had mentioned, but Kingsley hat cut across at once, saying that she had already done more than enough and that they would probably know the names in due time anyway.

"You said Fudge wanted to contact the Daily Prophet?" he asked.

"Yeah, after he had erased his memory, he asked Robarts to call… somebody from the office. To make a statement." That somebody had been Percy Weasley, Tonks had told Remus that before Arthur and Molly had arrived, and Remus squeezed her hand appreciatively when she did not mentioned it. The Weasleys were too distressed as it was.

"He won't be able to cover this up, then. He'll just have to put in the names. Otherwise, the families of the death Hit-Wizards would claim for an investigation."

"If he doesn't erase their memories as well..."

"There's something positive, though," Moody spoke.

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"'Course. He'll task you now to look for those Death Eaters," he growled the last two words, "so now you'll actually get to use some of the resources of the Ministry in something other than chasing Sirius up and down the country while knowing he's right here!"

Tonks nodded, Remus could see how that was indeed a slight improvement.

"It's still shit," Tonks muttered but Remus doubted anybody else had heard.

Emmeline Vance was talking about quitting her job and dedicating full time to the pursuit of the leads they had so far; even Mundungus volunteered to search around various spots he thought might attract newly escaped Death Eaters.

By the time the meeting was over and Remus and Tonks could Apparate back into her flat the sun was almost raising.

She dropped on the sofa and groaned.

He did not know what to do. He felt tired, worn out, even hungry, but none of that matched, not even close, how scared he was. It was almost as going through it all again, almost as that time, when the first time a member of the first Order had died, and he had realised just then how heavy a burden he had chosen to carry on his shoulders.

"What are you thinking?" Tonks asked, her eyes were fixed on his expression.

He had to smile. Sometimes he could swear she was reading her thoughts or, at least, she could tell when those thoughts were especially grim.

"The past," he just said.

Tonks patted the sofa at her side, invitingly, and Remus sat there, hugging her shoulders with his arm.

"Did it felt this…" she seemed to be struggling to find the right word, "overwhelming, back then?"

Not overwhelming, that was not the term he would use to sum it all up.

"Is that what you're feeling, overwhelmed?"

"At least for now, yes. We've practically redone the entire organisation of the Order, we've all have given new tasks to sum up the ones we had, and on top of that, I'll have to be in the office in hours time, and I'd probably have to look at Fudge and pretend nothing had happened on top of the infinite loads of extra work we will all have because of this." She finished with a loud sigh and rested her head on Remus' shoulder. "I'm actually wondering why they hadn't called us in yet. They're probably covering up all the deaths and preventing the Department to actually go to Azkaban to see Dementors are no longer there."

He pictured the prison from the only memory he had of the place, of the day he had been granted access to see Sirius all that time ago. The Dark Creatures were so linked to the place it seemed impossible to image it without them.

"I wonder who or what are they going to put on charge now."

"Hit-Wizards, probably," Tonks said dismissively. "It's going to get a lot cheerier now."

Remus stroked her hair for a moment, wondering if he would dare to say what was on his mind. Would it be like some sort of incantation that, once said aloud, would materialise in front of them?

"If you're not overwhelmed, then what are you feeling?" Tonks asked, predictably.

He considered her question for a moment. He had his answer ready but he did not want to state it. Her dark eyes were fixed on him; he knew she was not looking for empty, reassuring words.

"Fear," Remus forced himself to say it aloud.

"Yeah, that," she grunted. "I guess I'll get to that once the news start to sink in."

"It took me a long while the first time," Remus said, fearing that he was sounding patronising. In moments like this, he felt thousand years older than her; it was not fair to make her feel like that as well. "At the beginning there was a lot of anger, but not much fear. None, to tell the truth. Lily was forever saying I was reckless, and I guess that, at some point, she had said it so often, James started to say it too."

"Were you? Reckless?"

"Perhaps I was," he said slowly, trying to recreate some of the missions and battles during that time. "It's hard to say. There were so many situations and most of us were so young, it all could've looked reckless. Maybe the only non-reckless thing to do would have been to go into hiding, lay low."

"You wouldn't do that."

"No, I wouldn't, but I had other reasons."

"What reasons?" she asked, shifting to the side a little to better look at him.

Remus gave a wry laughter at the memories. He had tried to bury them, amongst all there was in his life that was worth forgetting, and here it all was coming back, triggered by Tonks' questions.

"I wanted to change the world," he said dismissively. "And for me, the war was an opportunity to do so."

Tonks looked at their entangled hands on his lap.

"Change the world," she muttered softly. "All of it?"

Remus chuckled again, but this time it was not bitter.

"A large piece of it. The piece in which they would not let me join the Aurors Training Programme, for instance."

"They… what?"

Remus had realised a second too late. This was something he had never discussed with her.

"I wanted to be an Auror, at some point. Now I realise that the political climate of the time had a lot to do with it. Being an Auror is not my thing, I'm pretty sure I'm better as a Professor. But at the time I applied."

"And they didn't take you...?"

"They don't take Dark Creatures in, you see."

Tonks closed her eyes and Remus could see her pained expression.

"It's long forgotten now, Tonks," he muttered, stroking he hair.

"It's not," she said, "we're still coping with that same rubbish, aren't we?"

Remus shrugged.

"Well, back then it sort of helped me. You see, as I told the person who trained me, when you have nothing to lose, you're more than ready to fight."

Her eyes snapped open.

"You were reckless, then," she stated.

Remus shrugged.

"This time is different; I have things to lose now. If you're going to get worried about something, I won't be it."

Her head was resting on his shoulder again.

"I hope not," she said, her voice heavy with sleep. "You behave recklessly Remus Lupin and I will personally make you wish for Death Eaters to get to you before I do."

* * *

**AN: This is the continuation of Tonks' Ch 70. ****Thank you, thank you very much for reading! **


	74. More than two months had passed

**AN: I don't own Harry Potter, nor Remus or Tonks... or anybody related to them.**

* * *

_March 29__th__ 1996._

More than two months had passed since the last time Sirius had gone outside the house. Afterwards, his good spirits had lasted for a while, but now they were long gone and Remus was sure that the escaping Death Eaters were not entirely to blame for that. Tonks had even taken him to see Andromeda once more, and although he had been happy enough at the time, his depression afterwards had seemed to be even deeper than before.

That mock freedom they pretend to give him with sneaking him outside the house he loathed was nor a solution anymore.

To make matters worse, encompassing Sirius' bad temper he had his own to cope now. No matter how hard would they try to get ahead of things, no matter how many new members they had managed to recruit, it seemed now that the Death Eaters were always one step in front of them. After the massive breakout in January, things had just gotten worse. The fact that they were not being outspoken about what they were doing or about Voldemort being back was not a reassurance at all. If anything, it made them much more dangerous.

True, now Tonks and Kingsley had been tasked with finding them so they did not have to hide so much from the Ministry and it was easier for them to pass information on to the Order, but compared to all what was crumpling all around them, it was a very weak consolation.

In Remus' mind, it was all partially linked to Sirius' confinement; they needed him as what he was, a useful asset, and not as somebody that was lowering even more the morale of the group, even if inadvertently.

The last straw had been Bellatrix attack on Tonks, more than a month ago. And, of course, it just had to be during a full moon, when he had been hopeless and useless. Remus refused to think what could have happened to her, had it not been for Moody's prompt appearance. Often these days he would find himself staring at her, feeling sick in his stomach at the thought of her getting harmed or… he could not eve think further and he had to leave the room whenever he remembered how much difficult all was getting.

"What's the matter?" she would ask him whenever she would catch him at it, and he would pretend he was all right, even though he knew she was somebody he could not fool with empty words.

How all of this could relate to Sirius, he did not know, but he was certain he just had to do something about that, at least, and he knew exactly what.

Remus did not want to wait for Dumbledore to go to headquarters. With Dolores Umbridge trying to take over Hogwarts, he was rarely seen these days. Besides, he did not want the rest of the members of the order to hear what he had to say, least of all, take sides. Sirius did not need that extra humiliation.

The headmaster had promptly agreed to a meeting in the school and that just suited Remus fine. Only, he was not very keen to be seen by his former students or colleagues. As far as he knew, most of them were probably scared of him, remembering that he was supposed to be a wild werewolf on the loose. Least of all, of course, he wanted to bump into Umbridge. He was not sure if she would remember him, they had met only once or twice; if she did, he would not put pass her to send him to trial on some sort of false accusation of trespassing the grounds, while telling everybody how the Ministry cared for the safety of the students. That was a nauseating enough thought. If she did not recognise him, she would at least want to know why a grown-up stranger was wandering the corridors of the castle.

He had finally decided to use Moody's invisibility cloak and just go to Dumbledore's office at night, when most of students were probably in their dormitories or Common Rooms.

Not long ago he had come to this same spot, accompanied by Tonks and escorting Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys back to school after the winter holidays; now he was on his own. He had not even told Tonks what he was up to and now he wondered why. Maybe it had to do with that uncomfortable feeling he got in front of her lately. It was not only fear, he thought while walking up to the school's front gates, it was shame. Had he not been a cursed Dark Creature, he could have come with her to that ridiculous mission; he could have prevented her torture. What good was he doing to her as it was?

She was capable, of course, he could deal with a lot, and that was making it all the more obvious to Remus. Why would she want to be burdened with the task of having to cope with him?

Lost in his grim thoughts, he almost collided with the closed gates. He wondered if they would open or of he would have to send a message for somebody inside the castle. Fortunately, they gave way silently when he gently pushed them.

The grounds were deserted, and so was the entrance hall. While climbing up the marble stairs, he heard footsteps at a distance and, even under the protection of the Invisibility cloak, he flattened himself against the wall. A couple of older students wearing Slytherin robes quickly passed next to him, talking about some sort of patrol roster. _Prefects_.

Remus continued, silently, taking as many hidden passages as he remembered, twice he almost collided with students, hurrying down corridors or up staircases. With a mixture of nostalgia and pride, he recognised them as old students. How much had they grown in less than two years! He felt tempted of making a detour towards Gryffindor's Common Room and see if he could get a glimpse of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny or the twins but at the end he decided against it. The chances of them crossing the portrait just then were probably scarce and he would be late for his meeting.

Finally he reached the stone gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Fizzing Whizbee," he said quietly, and the gargoyle moved, showing the ascending spiral staircase.

He was suddenly anxious and climbed the stairs two at a time, feeling slightly dizzy. Not until he had knocked and heard Dumbledore's "Come on in, please," did he take off the cloak.

The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, several rolls of parchment extended in front of him. A handsome fire roared in the crate and Fawkes the phoenix was on its perch, blinking lazily. It was all so familiar; this had been an image he had always linked to reassurance and even strength… only this time he felt nothing of the sort. Even Dumbledore looked tired and weak and he could not tell if it was only because of him looking at the gloomier side of everything these days, or because of the man in front of him actually being worn-out.

"Good evening, Remus. I hope you're well."

"Good evening, Albus."

"Please, take a sit."

He did and for a moment none of them spoke. Dumbledore seemed to be studying him intently; under the piercing gaze of those blue eyes, Remus' carefully built speech seemed to have melted away.

"This is not the first time I wish I could know what you're thinking about, Remus," Dumbledore finally spoke.

"I don't think I know what you mean?"

"You don't?" he smiled a little. "Take your friend Tonks, for instance." Take her indeed. Remus wondered if it was just a coincidence that the headmaster had chosen to mention her; this was not the time to dwell on that, though. "She's so expressive it's rare the occasion in which it's difficult to tell what is she thinking or how is she feeling. She is, and I don't mean this disrespectfully, transparent, and sometimes that is a relief."

Remus felt the corners of her mouth twitch at the memory of her. Transparent was an odd word to refer to his Dora, but not a far-fetched one.

"You, on the other hand," Dumbledore continued, "even since you were younger, you've always known how to hide your thoughts and your feelings. You show them, all right, but only when you want to, and on your terms."

He did not know what to reply to that. It was not untrue either.

"So now you're here, wanting to talk to me, and I know it's not urgent, otherwise you would have searched for a more quick or direct mean of communication. And yet it must be important, or you wouldn't have bothered."

"That's right," Remus nodded.

"And whereas I am most certain that you will eventually tell me – otherwise your coming here would have been a waste of time and that's not the way you do things – I wish I knew what sort of message it is and how you feel about it."

"That's the thing," Remus said, deciding this could go on forever and the best way to just get rid of both his own feelings and Dumbledore's worries would be to say it. "It's not my feeling I'm worried about now. It's Sirius."

Dumbledore blinked a second too long and rested his back on his chair, the tips of his fingers touching and the glass of his half-moon spectacles shining with the light of a nearby candle.

"Would it be too arrogant of me to say I was, to some extent, expecting you to broach the subject sooner or later?"

"Then you must have an answer at the ready."

Dumbledore sighed.

"I have two answers for that. The one I'm sure you and Sirius would want to hear me saying-"

"He doesn't know I'm here," Remus prompted, but Dumbledore kept on talking.

"-and the one I would like for you both to understand, even if that's proving to be more difficult with the passing of time. I can't help but have this feeling of me being the concerned adult and you, or rather Sirius, the rebel teenager I have to take care of."

"The thing is, Albus," Remus could not prevent her voice to be cold, but he did not care, "he's not a rebel teenager anymore and there's no point on trying to treat him like one."

"And yet, he doesn't seem to be aware of the consequences of what some of his actions might trigger, nor do you, apparently."

"Consequences," Remus said with almost a sneer. "You do realise that the moment we sign up for joining the Order of the Phoenix, we had been more than aware of the consequences? Sirius knows! He knows since the first time we came into this very office, barely of age, with people that are already dead! And he's known all along!"

"It's not only him I'm worried about, Remus, why don't you see? It's not about only him anymore, just as it wasn't about just James or Lily back then. It's about the implications of something happening to him, of him getting caught…"

"The implications…?" Remus blurted out.

"Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "Sirius might become a weapon against Harry, and I don't think I need to remind you why it is so important to keep Harry Potter safe." For the first time since he had entered the office, there was distinctive coldness in Dumbledore's voice. Remus felt his temper rise.

He was not angry at the answer, he suddenly realised. It was not only that. It was him, Dumbledore, not being the strong person he needed him to be, failing to understand something that, in Remus' eyes was so simple and logical, both reasonable and deeply human.

"I know that," he said, breathing deeply to steady his temper, "but I think you're underestimating not only Sirius, but the boy as well. He, too, knows… or at least has an idea of what this war mean. He knows what is at sake! And he would understand if, ultimately, something happens to Sirius!"

"Would he, though?" Dumbledore raised both eyebrows for a split second.

"Of course he would! You're gaining nothing trying to protect both him and Sirius, keeping them away, locked, supposedly safe."

"I would have expected from you Remus to-"

"That's exactly it!" Unable to control the energy that seemed to be boiling inside him, Remus stood up and ignored the loud screech the legs of the chair made on the floor. "You're expecting! Assuming! Thinking Harry won't be able to cope! And worse of all, slowly killing Sirius by not allowing him to do that what he was born to do to being with!"

"Remus I don't think you're seeing it clearly," Dumbledore's voice was strong now, he was no longer resting his back on the chair, but sitting up straight.

"You're the one who's not seeing it clearly! You're here, aren't you? Working for finishing Voldemort off your own way and directing us all, and that's very good indeed, but you're not there. And Sirius being locked up it's not only about his tantrums, or his discussions with Snape, or his trying to forget the nightmare his life had been with copious amounts of Firewhiskey. The man is dying, Dumbledore!"

"He's alive!"

"He's not!" roared Remus. "You're harming him even more than the Dementors did all those years!"

None of them spoke. Remus realised his fists were on Dumbledore's desk and he took a step back, his breathing fast. Dumbledore was piercing him with his eyes, his expression quite unreadable.

"I'm asking you to allow him out of the house." Remus said, forcing calm into his voice again. "And not as a dog. We've been doing that all along," he admitted with some sort of grim satisfaction at the sight of Dumbledore raising his eyebrows slightly. "We've been sneaking him out of the house, transformed, so he could breathe some real air. But that's just insulting. He's not a dog, he's a wizard. Much more than that. He's a fighter, he was supposed to be an Auror, and he had done so much during the last war this is just an insult, a humiliation!"

"Have you considered what would happen if…?"

"He would have lived, Dumbledore," Remus said in a hoarse whisper. "Even if he dies, he would have lived."

For a long moment, nobody spoke. Remus grabbed the back of the chair he had vacated and placed it on front of Dumbledore's desk again, before sitting.

"Do you realise, Remus, that he is not the same Sirius he was, before James and Lily died?" the headmaster spoke quietly and Remus forced himself to consider the full implications of the question before answering.

"You helped him last year," he said, avoiding a direct answer. "He told me you even suggested a hiding place for him here, near the castle, so he could be closer to Harry."

"That I did," Dumbledore said, now looking intently at the tip of his fingers.

"Then, is it too much of a difference this-?"

His question got drowned by the sudden opening of the door. He spun around and saw Minerva McGonagall, her eyes wide open and breathing heavily.

"Albus, there is-" she stopped abruptly, looking at him. Remus could see her struggling to remain composed. "Good evening, Remus," she said, unable to hide the surprise in her expression.

"Good evening, Minerva," he said, as she closed the door behind her.

"What is it?" Dumbledore said almost at the same time and Remus' spun around again, this time to face him. There was something in his voice, some sort of urge… At his side he felt a rush of air and he realised one second later Fawkes had disappeared. Without even thinking, he drew out his wand holding it almost casually, but nonetheless at the ready.

"Cornelius Fudge had just Apparated outside the gates," she practically blurted out. "And earlier today I saw _her_," she made a grimace of disgust, "talking overly excited with some Slytherin Prefects."

"So you conclude both facts are connected."

"It's too much of a coincidence, but what is it?"

"I suspect we'll know soon enough." There was a crease on Dumbledore's forehead but before Remus could ask, he spoke to him. "I must ask you to leave, Remus. We shall continue this talk."

Slightly taken aback, concern growing inside him, he stood up. McGonagall was still looking at him, fidgeting a little.

"I wouldn't want to meet…" Remus started, looking at her and then at Dumbledore again.

"Of course," Dumbledore said, standing up. "Fortunately, my fireplace is one of the few the Ministry doesn't have a watch on. I use it rarely, but I shall think this is a meritorious occasion. I must ask you, though, not to go anywhere related to the Order, we wouldn't want to-"

A single flame appeared in the middle of the circular room and a golden feather floated to the floor, right between Dumbledore and himself.

"There's no time now," the headmaster urged him, pointing to the fire.

"Is there something I…?"

"I will contact headquarters briefly. Don't worry," Dumbledore said, taking a small pouch that was hanging from the mantelpiece. With a swift movement he took a pinch of powder from it and threw it into the flames which turned emerald green almost at once.

Remus was about to step in when he heard somebody knocking on the door. He looked at McGonagall one last time, but she was looking at the door. There was no point on trying to find out what all that was about nor, he realised while spinning around towards the Leaky Cauldron, trying to get an answer from Dumbledore.

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**AN: Some of the last chapters had felt a little heavy to write. Perhaps because I was just predictably feeling in the blanks the book left. This is a somewhat new idea that plainly refused to dissapear and I have to thank ThisLoveHasNoCeiling because I firstly discussed it with her. Please, if you think this is way too off canon, let me know.**

**I want to thank the people that have alerted or fav'ed this story. You make me absurdly happy! And deep thanks to the lovely reviewers! Virtual oatmeal cookies for all of you (or your flavour of choice)!**

**Cheers!**

**[Two extra things: (1) Tonks' attack is related in chapters 71 and 72 of "Tonks' Tale" (2) Never mind that 'I'm posting on Tuesday' thing I said earlier! I'll just post, all right?]**


	75. Both new and very old

**AN: Last time I checked, Harry Potter and all characters and places related to those books still belonged to J. K. Rowling.**

* * *

He should not have time to analyse it, to think about his own emotions this much, but he was doing it nonetheless. It was both new and very old, a risk in itself, something exciting the way pulling a prank at school had been, and yet dangerous and terribly serious.

Remus had been following the man he was now surveying. How far in he was into the Death Eater's circle, he could not tell, but several overhead conversations and some very particular behaviour had told him he had indeed some relation to them. Get him on his own and find out what sort of relations that was, had proven to be impossible, a teamwork was needed for finding out exactly what was going on.

Travelling up and down the country with a truck loaded with crates he was just posing for both Muggles and Wizards as a respectable truck driver. The few times that truck would be spotter by Muggles, they would not know that, disguised as regular bottles of beer, the crates were indeed carrying Firewhiskey and Butterbeer to several magic pubs all over the country. For the Wizards, though, or more precisely for Remus and the rest of the Order, what exactly was behind that second façade had not yet been established.

Maybe it all was a mistake, but they were too desperate about any clues they might find that could lead them somewhere, and he was again hoping he would not be mistaken this time. Because, even if that _was_ Butterbeer, why would he carrying it to so very peculiar individuals?

From his observation point, inside an abandoned shack, few metres away from the old-looking pub, he saw the truck park next to the back door, and both the man and two assistants climb down from it. That was one of the things that did not make sense to Remus. Were those two assistants really needed? The portly driver could levitate the lot on his own, maybe use the help of another wizard just in case, but two of them? Perhaps it was his trying to read more into things, but he was under the impression the two individuals were more as a guard of sorts.

Both assistants started levitating the crates from the wagon into the pub, with no apparent hurry, and he could not see clearly anymore for the wagon blocked most of it. Further down the road, at the opposite side of the pub, he saw a faint spark that had seemed to glow from the midst of some rubbish bins. At the bluish light wee hours of the morning, it looked very bright but Remus was sure that it had been so brief it had not been noted by anybody. Not by the truck driver or his assistants, at any rate.

It was the signal he had been waiting for. The assistants were on their own, finishing the unloading of the crates. The driver had gotten inside the pub, as he usually did after a deliver, to talk to the patron and collect his earnings. With a small wave of his wand, Remus flashed Sirius another faint glow and exited the shack through the back window. They would have to act at the same time, or the entire operation would be a failure.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the dark silhouette of a man heading for the pub's front door, hidden to the glances of the men levitating the crates. He could not recognise Sirius; both of them and Tonks had used morphing charms generously on his body, they would not risk for him to get recognised, not even by chance.

He had to speed up if he was to approach the working men in time. Keeping close to the brick walls of the buildings next to the pub, he hid in the shadows. The soft creaking of the front door's hinges sounded at the same time that his feet took a step on the gravel at the back of the pub. The workers, with the soft thumps of the crates being moved, heard neither.

He evaluated the situation for a second. Making up his mind, Remus pointed his wand at the man closest to him and casted a silent _Stupefy_. Before the man hit the ground with a muffled _thud_, he prevented the crate he had been levitating from colliding with the ground. The second man spun around and fired something with his wand. Remus ducked it but his own spell had already been casted. The second man fell onto the ground with the stunning spell that hit him squarely on the chest.

He whirled around to see if the spell casted had been noticed by anybody else. Except for a nasty burning mark on the bricks of the wall in front of them, nothing seemed to be disturbed.

Remus walked swiftly towards the fallen men, he needed to get them out of the way, in case Sirius had failed inside the pub. With a swift movement of his wand, Remus levitated both limp bodies inside the wagon, and put two crates in front of them hiding them from view, for good measure. He had barely finished searching their pockets and snatching their wands when the back door of the pub opened and a shorter, sturdier version of Sirius, exited. He was smirking widely and the gesture was so deeply his, Remus felt tempted to perform another morphing charm on him, just in case.

"Done," he said hoarsely.

"You still know how to stun, then?" Remus said softly, walking towards the back door.

"Like riding a broom, mate, some things are never forgotten."

The pub was dimly lit by two lamps on the counter. Remus saw the man he had been followed, spread-eagled on the floor, and another other one, much older, lying some metres away: the patron of the pub. He recognised him all right; he had been one of the many wizards captured after the first war, who had sworn at the time, he had been acting during the Imperius curse. The Order was not convinced though, and lately he had been added to the list of people they were keeping tabs on.

"We need to make it quickly," Remus said, moving the driver with his foot, "before the others wake up." He searched on the pockets of the man's jacket and produced several pieces of parchment and a small mirror. Sirius was already eyeing the man's wand.

"This is all there is," Remus finally said, pointing a wand at the papers, "_Geminio_!" An exact replica of them formed and he put it on the man's pockets again, carefully keeping the original set. "I'm done here," he added.

"_Enervate_," Sirius pointed his wand at the lying man.

He blinked a couple of times, taking in his surroundings, and at the sight of both Remus and Sirius, bending over him, he hauled into a sitting position, trying to skid away from them. There was fear in his eyes.

"Name and occupation, if you please?" Sirius said almost politely.

"Who're you?" the man growled.

"Not important. What is important, though, is who you are, and seeing as we are the one holding the wands here, I suggest you speak."

The driver seemed to remember about his wand only then, and he frantically searched in an inside pocket of his jacket.

"This?" Sirius twirled the wooden stick. "I told you we're the ones holding it."

"We need to know your name and what exactly it is that you're doing here," Remus said.

"I'm the ruddy supplier, right? I take them Butterbeers here."

"And you do a fine job at that," Sirius said, nicking one of them from a box lying next to the bar. "But that's not just it, isn't it?"

Remus wanted to smile, despite of the situation. Sirius was acting exactly the way he had had during the first war, enjoying every second of it all, behaving as if this was his element, as if he was always the one with the winning hand.

And the realisation was so strong he almost stopped in his tracks, right in the middle of a mission. He could say everybody who would listen – Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks – that he had been doing for the sake of Sirius' sanity, but the fact was that he had orchestrated his going back on missions for his own, Remus' sake, as well. It was different that going with Tonks; he liked her as a partner, but he could not stop him worrying over her even though he knew she was more than capable to cope with a great deal of things. That sort of protective worry, though, was absent pairing up with Sirius. He could not deny he was enjoying having his partner back.

Thinking about it brought back that feeling of guilt, one sort of guilt he had not felt since he had left school after his seventh year. Dumbledore had not given him a straight answer and he had conveniently seized that. There was no saying that he would not have convinced him of letting Sirius go at the end, he rationalised. He had even been willing to discuss it before… And now, most suitably, he could not know.

There was no possibility of contacting Dumbledore. After Cornelius Fudge, led by Umbridge, had decided to imprison him, making him evade Hogwarts castle, he had contacted the Order twice, and he had not left any direct means to communicate with him. Remus was worried, of course, about the happenings inside the school, and about Dumbledore himself, but there was also that small voice in the back of his head, one that sounded a lot like James', pointing out that this was just right and that it would not do anybody any good to dwell on it unnecessarily.

Now, seeing Sirius back in his element, he could not help but be convinced that he had been right all along.

"I don't know what else there is," the man on the floor was saying, trying to sound indignant.

"D'you want us to guess?" Sirius asked again, after taking a large sip from his bottle.

"You are mad, both of you!"

"Listen," Remus said, towering over the man and pressing the tip of his wand to his chest. "We know you're up to something. Your friend over there," he pointed at the lying man, without taking his eyes off the driver, "has a very filthy record back at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And so does the client you were going to visit after this one. And the one you went to yesterday. And that other fellow, Macnair, he looks like he has a very respectable job at the Ministry, but his record isn't exactly clean either."

"So," Sirius had left the bottle over the counter, and crouched next to the man, so his eyes were levelled with his. "Why this sudden fondness for dirty reputations, eh?"

"I don't… Didn't know…"

"You've been living on the bottom of a well for the past fifteen years then," Sirius said. "Tell you what," he continued, preventing the man from talking. "You tell us the easy way, or we force the answer out of you, how about that?"

"You can't…" he stammered, "I won't talk."

"Oh, but I think you do," Remus spoke softly. "And it's better talking to us than doing so for the Aurors."

The eyes of the man widened.

"The… the Aurors?" he said, sweat forming on his forehead.

After that, there had not been much to do.

"He wet himself," Sirius recalled to Tonks; she had just arrived from the Ministry and the three of them were having diner back at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. "He started spilling the beans all over the place."

"And good think that he did too," she nodded. "After you called for us, Scrimgeour decided to send Robarts and Savage in. And no matter how hard Kingsley and I have tried to sneak some information out of them, they've been hiding it all suspiciously well."

"We would never have found out," Remus said slowly.

"Nope. I might have tried to sneak into their offices, but it's much riskier."

"What's the explanation they gave to you for not letting you know?" Remus asked her.

"None at all! They bought what Kingsley said after he got your Patronus. That there had been a tip off on Sirius' whereabouts by an anonymous source. He was about to go, but Scrimgeour decided against it."

"Doesn't he trust Kingsley anymore?"

Tonks took a bite of her roasted chicken before answering.

"I don't think so," she said thoughtfully. "I reckon he just though it would be nothing. They seemed really smug to have actually captured somebody. Let's hope the memory charm you performed," she looked at Sirius, " will work all right and they would not remember they'd been questioned before by you."

"It'll work," Sirius said. "And, if not, I don't think the Ministry would be able to track it down to us anyway. They might think we were reporters or something of the sort."

He poured himself more pumpkin juice. Remus had noticed there had not been a bottle of Firewhiskey in sight for a couple of days, but he had not said a thing, nor had Tonks, and he was thankful for that.

"Those bastards," Sirius said grimly, but his voice did not match the glow in his eyes. The graveness of what they have found matched his own excitement of being outside again. "Those crates were actually hiding kidnapped wizards and witches. And when that wasn't it, he was plainly delivering messages. Parchments the Death Eaters wouldn't risk sending by owl. He didn't know much about them, they were protected by all sorts of spells and jinxes, but still he knew perfectly well who he was working for."

The three of them remained silent for a moment. Such news of unlawful activities by Death Eaters were becoming more and more common but, to Remus, that did not made them any easier to accept.

"So now we're telling everybody that Sirius' out and about?" Tonks asked, helping herself to an apple.

Remus looked at Sirius, and then at her.

"I don't know. I don't think we should."

"I don't mind telling or not," Sirius prompted. "I wouldn't want anybody to try and stop me, though. As long as I'm out and doing real things you might as well tell everybody I'm teaching myself how to crochet upstairs!"

"Molly'd want to take a look at that," Tonks said with a snigger.

"It's easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission," Sirius stated solemnly.

* * *

**AN: Thank you very much, Andrewthegreat1, AlbertaRose, roflshvuakomail, loveislouder94, DeathlyHallowsschoolgirl, Blue Luver5000, MuggleCreator, Trouble, Louey06, QueenAnneMagic, and login password.**


	76. Why Dumbledore had refused

_July 5__th__ 1996._

Why Dumbledore had refused his offering of meeting at Hogwarts and had sent an owl not long ago, asking Remus to meet at his flat instead, he did not know. Something on the note had felt urgent, so Remus had lost no time to agree.

He could not say if it was for better or worse. Lately, he had the impression that too many things were just the same for him, almost as if he did not care enough. There was only this weight that would not go away no matter what, guilt, anger, sorrow, something heavy and cold clutching his insides and making him both want to run away and stay put, immobile.

Neither was a possibility, of course. Something he had learned during the first war was that it would carry on, whether they were ready or not, weather they felt they need some time to mourn or not.

After the initial numbness, though, he had come out with a plan of his own. He had chosen to ignore the pressing certainty that Sirius would have been adamant in trying to convince him not to do it; Sirius was gone anyway and there was no telling what he would or would not do. He was avoiding Dora too; it was coward of him but he could not bear seeing her making a painful effort to try and hide her wounds and bruises from him, he could not face remembering that he had not been quick enough to prevent her from harm or to prevent Sirius from dying.

"_They're on their way! Maybe they're already there! It's a trap!" Sirius yelled, when Snape had finally managed to contact them, with the news that Harry had somehow gotten the conviction that he, Sirius, had been trapped by Voldemort and was being held by him at the Department of Mysteries. And much worse than that, that he had probably decided to go to the Ministry himself, and it was more than likely that he would not go alone._

_How Harry had gotten the idea was more than clear. Remus and Sirius had learned not long ago that Snape had decided to stop giving him Occlumency lessons. _

_Remus had promised to go to the school and talk to him. It was imperative for Harry to learn to shut his mind. He had had not success at all. Snape had refused to even talk to him at all and, not being able to directly contact Dumbledore, there seemed to be nothing else to do._

_What a foolish mistake._

_"Wait! Snape is right!" Kingsley was arguing with Sirius, and before Remus or Tonks, who had been clutching his hand, could ask what he was right about, Sirius roared again. _

_"He's not! I'm not staying behind!"_

_Of course he would not. He had been going out way too frequently lately, even if Kingsley was oblivious to it. And, Remus was sure that even if he had not, he would not stay behind when knowing Harry could be in danger._

"_Somebody has to tell Dumbledore when he arrives! It won't be long!" Kingsley said, trying to put some reason into the conversation. Remus could tell it would be of no use._

_"It won't be me," Sirius growled, a sort of calm fury emanating from him. The yelling had awakened not only his mother's portrait but every single one along the entrance hall of number 12, Grimmauld Place, but Sirius and Kingsley seemed to be oblivious to the fact._

_"We'll go." Remus spoke before Kingsley could retort. They were wasting precious time arguing and he could tell by the way Mad-Eye magical eye was spinning in its socket that the Auror wanted to leave, even if he was forced to do it alone. "We all go. We don't know what we're facing there. We'll need all the help possible."_

_"And who's gonna tell Dumbledore-?" Kingsley started._

_"I'll order Kreacher to do it," Sirius said, already climbing up the stairs. "Kreacher!"_

He should have sided with Kingsley, he realised it now. He should have tried to convince Sirius to stay put, at least until Dumbledore arrived. He might have been able to persuade him, to prevent him from going.

But there was no kidding himself on that matter. In his heart of hearts he knew it would have been close to impossible to force Sirius not to do anything and looking at them all leaving. No, his mistake had been greater and not even recent. He had been spoiling it all for a long time.

And yet, at that moment when he had charged towards Dolohov, he had seen in Sirius' expression something he hardly remembered from a much younger version of his friend, a lifetime ago. A wild energy, excitement, some sort of magnificent anger; Sirius had enjoyed the few missions he had lately taken part in, but he had not had the chance to actually engage in a fight, probably since that last one he had against Wormtail, so many years ago. He had enjoyed it, he had been in his element, firing spells and ducking jinxes and Remus had seen it.

It did not make any easier to remember the rest.

_Remus barely registered why everybody seemed to have stopped fighting until a definite wave of his wand had sent Mulciber flying against the lower stone step. His eye was still bleeding from something one of the kids had done to him and now, due to the force of Remus' own spell, he could not move anymore._

_He whirled around, ready to face the next Death Eater while trying to figure out where Harry and the rest were when he saw her. Tonks was lying on one of the upper stone steps, she was not moving. Something chilly filled Remus' insides. What had hit her? Why was she lying like that? Who had she been duelling? And why, why had he, Remus, not being there to protect her? _

_He was about to run towards her when he realised the room had gotten strangely quiet. Something made him look up; Dumbledore was towering over them and it was plain their enemies did not stand a chance. Even they seemed to realise that, but their attempts of escape were futile. _

_And for a moment, time seemed to freeze, as Sirius and Bellatrix, the only remaining fighters, continued to move for less than a second. It took only that for the spell to hit Sirius, and just another second for him to fall through the stone arch, still smiling wildly._

_Remus had barely time to register it. Harry passed in front of him, launching himself towards the place where his godfather stood a moment ago. _

"_SIRIUS!" he yelled, "SIRIUS!"*_

_He did not understand. How could he? He was just a boy, no matter how much he resembled his father, and he had just seen something nobody at fifteen should see._

_Without thinking, Remus grabbed him with all his might, preventing him to go any closer, wishing with all his might that he could keep him away not only physically but also emotionally. _

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry –" he said, and it felt as if he was just saying aloud something he was in desperate need to hear. _

"_Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!" Harry cried, struggling hard, and it was costing Remus all his remaining energy to stop him from going any further._

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing. . . . He's gone."_

Dumbledore was running late. It was highly unusual but he knew that in recent times he had been pursuing leads only he knew about, that were making him go up and down the country and, Remus suspected, even abroad. Sirius' loss seemed to have given everybody renewed energy.

What good was it, really?

He looked around at the dusty furniture, at the blackened kettle where he had been boiling tea and at the two cups on the table. He had not been at his flat a lot lately. He had been at Tonks'. But he did not want to think about Tonks now. It was burning him, hitting him with mixed emotions, mostly guilt. And yet, it also helped, thinking about her and how close he had been of losing her; it gave him strength to pursue his decision, too.

_Harry had run after Bellatrix, feeing himself from Remus' grip._

"_Harry — no!", he called after him, about to run and bring him back again if necessary, even if he was aching to run __towards the falling figure of his Dora. Dumbledore passed in front of him and he made up his mind. With two long strides he joined Mad-Eye, who, despite his own wounds, was pointing his wand at her, trying to revive her._

_It took them some time. Her pulse was finally steady and her breathing calm, but she did not open her eyes. _

_Mad-Eye stood up and limped towards the trapped Death Eaters, firmly pointing his wand at them. Remus held Tonks a little straighter against his chest. He could try to wake her up, of course, but he knew there was no point. They needed to figure out what had hit her and she would probably need to spend some time in St. Mungo's to recover. To wake her up would only make the whole process much more painful for her._

_She looked so young and frail, with her eyes closed. And the question that had assaulted Remus a moment ago came back with full strength. How had he failed to protect her? _

Somebody knocked at the door, taking him out of the gloomy path of his memories, and he opened it, his wand at the ready.

"Good evening, Remus."

Dumbledore did not look the same as he had done the last time he had seen him, in St. Mungo's not long ago. Back then, he had been worried and angry. Now he looked much more like his usual, calm self. Not entirely, though. He seemed older. Almost as if it had been 15 years and not only a little over a fortnight the last time he had seen him.

"Good evening, Albus. Please, come in."

The headmaster did so, and Remus gestured towards the table.

"You wanted to talk to me," Dumbledore said, taking a sit and looking at Remus with his piercing blue eyes. "However I will ask for you to listen to something first. I would need you to pass to the rest of the Order some terrible news. I would tell them myself, but I would not be available for a while and I think it would not do further harm if they would hear it from you."

"Further harm?" Remus asked, pouring some tea for himself and Dumbledore, who just nodded.

"There had been another death," Dumbledore said, and his voice quivered a little.

Remus almost dropped the kettle.

"Who?" he snapped, cold fear running down his spine.

"Emmeline Vance." Dumbledore said quietly.

How was it possible to feel relief when somebody he knew and appreciated was dead? And yet, he felt it. For a wild moment he had feared it had been Tonks, who had just recently gone home after staying some days at St. Mungo's. She had assured she felt alright that time he had been there to see her, and Molly had told him she had settled her back at her flat nicely, and yet, he had thought of her.

But it was not the right time to think about Tonks, or to feel relief of any kind.

"How?" he asked, heavily sitting in front of Dumbledore.

"We don't know," he said, sounding tired. "I just came from there. The Muggle police officers were already in place, a neighbour reported hearing screams and strange noises. It was… violent."

Remus did not need to ask for details to know how the scene must have looked like. Emmeline had not been a very good dueller. If she had wanted to put up a fight, it made it all much more terrible. She had not stood a chance and she probably knew it.

"There is the possibility of us, the members of the Order of the Phoenix, being targeted," Dumbledore added. "There was no reason to go for Emmeline, except for the fact that she was, indeed, a member. We must assume that scenario and take the correspondent measures."

Remus just nodded. He would pass the information to Kingsley and make sure it would reach Tonks. He almost winced. He was already considering not seeing Tonks again, almost as if it had been already settled.

"My news though," Dumbledore spoke again, "no matter how terrible, shall not distract us from what you wanted to tell me."

* * *

*** Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.**

**AN: Harry Potter and all things related to the books belong to J.K. Rowling. This chapter corresponds to Tonks' Ch 74 and 75.**

**I'm sorry about the delay. Real world and a bit of a writer's block kept me from finishing this chapter for a while. Thanks a lot for the patience!**


	77. He was about to do the right thing

Remus sighed.

Now that he was in front of Dumbledore and that he was sure he was finally about to do the right thing after a succession of deep failures, he felt empty of words.

There was not a trace of that strange determination he had felt after meeting Greyback outside his mother's house almost a year ago. He had felt repulsed at the sight of him but what he had hinted about how the situation for werewolves would get better soon had given Remus the idea he was about to present to Dumbledore for the second time.

"_You're out of your rocket! You've lost it mate! There's no way you'll… are you insane?"_

Sirius had been more than emphatic to oppose to that idea. But he was no longer there to be proven wrong, and it was a fine idea indeed.

"You said on your message," Dumbledore spoke again, probably realising that Remus needed a little push, "that you wanted to talk to me about a possible mission?"

Remus nodded, shuffling a little in his sit in front of the headmaster.

"I am ready to go to the werewolves and spy on them."

It was difficult to see if Dumbledore had been waiting this sort of news or not. He stared at Remus for a long time over his half-moon spectacles, almost as if he could read through him with his blue eyes. Slowly, he placed his hands on Remus' kitchen table, the tips of his fingers touching.

"This is hardly a new idea of yours. Could I ask you why is it that you want to give it a go precisely now, when not long ago we talk about how it was not really proven that Fenrir Greyback or other werewolves were in league with Voldemort?"

"There had been more attacks than usual," Remus spoke slowly. "However that is not what we should be waiting for. It would be foolish for us to wait for something to happen that would prove us that Fenrir Greyback has indeed joined forces with Voldemort. Wouldn't it be much better to have somebody in place before it happened? Me? I am ready-made for the job, Albus."

Dumbledore remained silent for a long moment and Remus wondered if he should press his point a little further, but decided against it.

"I will not deny that we are in need of somebody to spy on Voldemort's possible allies, somebody who could get closer than our attempts so far…" he did not sounded convinced. It seemed as if he was thinking aloud in order to get familiar with the idea.

Remus had decided, though. He would do it, with or without the headmaster's approval. It would be much better if Dumbledore did approve, though, for it would make his efforts more organised amongst the other activities of the Order.

Dumbledore sighed deeply and it took Remus out of his planning.

"I must apologise to you, Remus. I should have come earlier; right after what happened in the Ministry, as a matter of fact. I wanted discuss… I wanted to talk to you about Sirius."

"What does he has to do-?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"I wonder if you're trying to hide the connection from myself, which, given the circumstances would be quite understandable, or if you are indeed, and forgive me to say it, Remus, foolish enough to pretend to hide your own feelings from yourself."

"My feelings…"

"Before we talk about _that_ though, I would ask you to let me finish."

Remus just nodded, a very uncomfortable feeling growing inside him.

"I do owe you an apology, Remus. And I owe Sirius much more than that. You were right, both of you. And me… It was an old man foolish mistake, not to realise what was right in front of my eyes all along. What you and Sirius tried for me to understand."

"Understand…?" Remus repeated blankly.

"Sirius needn't to stay hidden, and least of all, at that place he loathed so much. I was trying to keep him alive and to keep all of us safer, and I though keeping him hidden would work," his tone was energetic for a moment, almost as if he was still trying to convince them of this particular view of things. Remus shook his head slowly; it was too late for all of that. "In my eagerness to start fighting as quickly as possible," Dumbledore continued more calmly, "to make fewer mistakes than last time, to risk less and to gain more, I forgot who he really was and what he really wanted to do. Later on, when you came into my office and asked, almost begged for me to understand what was clearly in front of my eyes, I failed to give you the answer you were looking for. I failed you, Remus, I failed you both."

"No you didn't," Remus said quietly. He did not need Dumbledore to bring all those painful memories of Sirius sulking, trapped inside his parent's old house; he did not want the headmaster to sidetrack him from his plans. "You were right, as a matter of fact, and it was my foolish mistake."

"You knew him," Dumbledore said simply. "You saw him much more often that I did. You understood him in a way I couldn't have because of your ability to put yourself in his place and because of the fact that you knew him much better than I did."

"You don't understand," shame was filling Remus' insides. He had to confess, Dumbledore had to know, even though Remus was sure confessing would not make it all stop aching. "After the last time we spoke," he started talking slowly, his eyes fixed on the wooden surface of the table, "when I came to Hogwarts to ask you to let Sirius go out, he started doing so. You hadn't given me a straight answer before Fudge, Kingsley and the rest came in, and both Sirius and I took advantage of it. It was as…" he looked up at Dumbledore, whose eyes seemed to be fixed to Remus'. It was plain he had had no idea of any of this. "We behaved as schoolchildren in the middle of a mischief. We wanted to get away with it and we enjoyed it deeply."

"You mean to tell me that Sirius…?"

"During the last few weeks he took part of the missions I was in charge too." He considered for a moment to mention Tonks, but decided against it on the spot. He very much doubted there would be repercussions to this wrongdoing of theirs, but he was not to risk her in any way. "We were partners for a while, and he got the chance to get outside the house and to fight. He was actually helping the Order."

Remus realised he was smiling at the few memories of Sirius, pointing his wand at a suspect, casting spells with the same ability that had caused the admiration of many students during their time at Hogwarts.

"So you see, Albus," Remus sighed, "it was my entire fault. If I hadn't been insistent, if I hadn't encouraged him, he would have stayed put and safe in Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He would have hated it, but he would have been alive by now."

"There is no saying that…"

"Yes, there is," Remus interjected. "If he had not been going out to all those missions, he would have stayed put when we all went to the Ministry, waiting for you to tell you what was happening!"

"And haven't you considered," Dumbledore raised his voice over his, "that even if he had stayed at headquarters for all that time, he would not have wanted to take part in the rescue of his godson? He would have gone out, I am sure, and I very much doubt you would have been able to stop him."

Shaking his head slowly, Remus took a sip of his tea. Of course Dumbledore would want to take the blame off his shoulders, of course he would want to reason Sirius' death the way he tried to reason everything.

"You don't know that," he said firmly. "Sirius didn't have to go outside, really. I should've listened to you, but I thought I knew best. And now he's gone."

"He left the way he was supposed to: fighting. You were the one saying that on the first place, Remus! How odd is it for us to have exchanged places so quickly. You told me, and you were absolutely right, how important it would have been for him to live in order to die. He did so, doing what he was born to do. I won't say it wasn't a tragedy the fact that he had to go so early in his life, nor the fact that he had to leave Harry, who had started to experience what a wonderful relation he could've had with his godfather. However, if he was to die, rest assured, Remus, that he did so the way he would have choose to."

Remus did not know what to answer to that for he did remember himself saying almost exactly that not long ago. It had seemed right at the time, logical. Now it was just an assortment of empty words.

For a long moment nobody spoke. Remus wished to talk about this new mission of his, but he was afraid that Dumbledore would want to continue talking about Sirius instead. He did not need to be distracted like that.

"And now," the headmaster finally spoke, "you wish to embark on a mission."

"That's right," Remus nodded, somewhat relieved. "I plan on approaching Fenrir Greyback and ask him to join his pack. I know he would not trust me right away but I am confident that, with time, I will gain some of the werewolves' trust and thus, I will be able to persuade some of them not to join Voldemort, while listening into possible plans they might have."

Dumbledore looked at the touching tips of his fingers for a long moment.

"We certainly need a spy," he said slowly, "but I cannot deny I am concerned. This ought to be a long term mission, is that correct?"

"Yes," Remus nodded, trying not to think about the implications of it. "For me to gain the werewolves' trust, I would have to join the pack completely. That's to say, I'll live with them, I'll stop using my wand, I won't contact the Order unless absolutely necessary…"

"So you are fully aware of the implications," Dumbledore summarised, looking directly at Remus again.

"I am."

For a moment Remus had the impression the headmaster wanted to say something, but he did not.

"I would like to join them as soon as possible," he added. "I would set some secure means of communication with the Order through Alastor Moody so I might be able to contact you if something arises."

"And during the full moons?"

Remus felt something cold and unpleasant growing inside him. He suspected Dumbledore already knew the answer to that question only he wanted to be sure Remus understood it all. The thought was laughable. Who but Remus would really understand what it all meant?

"I shall transform along with the pack during full moons," he stated. Then he added, suddenly remembering, "there will be no need for Snape to continue brewing me Wolfsbane potion, I shan't need it."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"It hasn't been Snape the one who had been brewing the potion lately, if I am not mistaken."

It was indeed difficult to keep things from Dumbledore. Remus imagined this had been what he had wanted to said a moment ago. While trying to be certain that he understood all what was implied in this new mission, the headmaster was now addressing that particular issue Remus had not been ready to face yet.

"Tonks had been brewing Wolfsbane for me for a while, yes," he said, his voice flat. "I will notify her that there is no need for her to continue doing so."

Dumbledore looked at the tips of his fingers again. A heavy silence grew between the two men and Remus tried to read something out of the old headmaster's expression. He could not be sure, but it appeared to be sadness.

"I have often wandered," Dumbledore spoke slowly, "not only recently, but since I was quite young, what is reasonable for a man to sacrifice in order to gain something bigger. What is one willing to risk and to relinquish for the greater good?"

Remus did not know what to answer to this. It was fine to try to put it under a theoretical, reflexive light, but the fact was that such things did not make anybody win a war, as he had had to learn the hard way. What was the point musing over it all.

"When are you planning to leave, Remus?" Dumbledore asked.

"Tomorrow," he answered, relieved that, apparently, the headmaster would not try to raise any further complicated questions, "or the day after that. As soon as I get everything ready."

* * *

_What are you supposed to pack when you decide to leave everything behind? Are you supposed to pack at all?_

Remus looked around his bedroom one more time, his eyes stooping briefly on one thing or another. He was dawdling and he knew it. Who could blame him, though?

He looked down at the small, tightly wrapped bundle in his hand. It would be foolish to think they would not search thoroughly through his possessions, looking for something of value, so he was taking nothing of the sort. Just some extra clothing held together around the oldest blanket he could find.

_"I… have a new mission. For the Order." It pained him to look at her, to see the dark circles under her eyes and to realise she had done nothing to morph them away. But he knew better; it would take her some time, but she would get over Sirius' death and go back to her cheerful self at the end._

_"I figured out as much," she said, "that's why you've been away these days, isn't it? What does that-"_

_It was not a regular mission and it would be better for her to understand it right away. Whatever happened, she should not think he would be back soon._

_"It's something different this time. It's going to be long term."_

_For a moment she did not say a thing. Her expression, first full with relif when he had just entered her flat, and then a little impatient at his mention of a new mission, was starting to change into incredulity._

"_You're going to spy on the werewolves," she stated, flatly._

_How did she knew? How had she realised it so quickly?_

"_I am."_

"_It's suicidal," she said in a dispassionate way, almost as if they were discussing somebody else's field tactics. Despite of what she had said, perhaps she would understand and accept it as it was. Perhaps she would make the enormously difficult task of leaving her, a little easier for him._

"_It isn't. And it could prove to be very useful for the Order."_

He would not take his wand to the werewolves either. It would be too risky to carry it with him, not only because it was a clear sign that he had been living amongst wizards, but because it was more than possible that they would take it from him. He had already decided he would not leave it at home either. He would have to find a place, as closest to the pack's dwelling as possible.

There was no telling if he would need it at some point.

Thinking along those lines, Remus had barely registered that his gaze had finally rested upon one object. He could not remember for how long had that small piece of parchment had been on his nightstand. After he had just gotten it, he had carried it around in his pocket for a while, re-reading it from time to time, during the long nights in missions or just when he needed to make sure it all was real. At some point, however, he had decided it would be safer to keep it at home.

_Despite his wishing, she was not making it any easier. When he had explained that it had not been Dumbledore but him who had came up with the idea of joining Fenrir Greyback's pack and work as a spy, she took a couple of steps back and looked at him almost as if she had never seen the likes of him before._

_"Dora," even though he knew it was better that way, her expression hurt. And yet, he had to go through with his plan. He had to tell her the idea that had formed into his mind after her narrow escape at the battle in the Department of Mysteries. "This… we shouldn't… we can't be together."_

_"Don't give me that nonsense, Remus," she snapped, angrily._

_"It isn't nonsense, Nymphadora. It's something I should have done some time ago. I've told you before! I am constantly putting you in danger; I am not what you deserve."_

_"Stop trying to decide what I deserve or not." _

_She was not to be trusted to decide it, if she was not to be reasonable about it all. It was important and she was being incapable of looking through all those personal feelings he had been careless enough to allow to grow on her._

He approached the night-stand and carefully took the small piece of parchment. It had been written somewhat hastily, with what seems to be Muggle ink.

_You make me absurdly happy._

Remus grimaced.

"No, Tonks," he said aloud. "I don't. And it's time for you to realise it."

Without being able to stop it, images of that night flooded his mind, mixing with his more recent and far gloomier experiences. It had seemed to have been a lifetime ago when he had found Tonks asleep in Grimmauld Place's kitchen, her arms on the table, her head buried on them.

She had woken up and he had offered to accompany her home on the excuse that she was too tired to Disapparate. Perhaps she had been, Remus smiled despite of himself, but it had been mostly an excuse. He had needed to be with her a little longer, and, as she admitted some time later, she had needed to be with him as well.

After he had finally left her, on a rare spur of spontaneity, he had scribbled her a note, telling her he was thinking of her and not daring to ask if she was feeling it all as strongly as he was.

Her response now rested between his fingers.

How foolish! How stupid they both had been! How reckless and selfish of him!

His hand clenched into a tight fist and he felt the parchment crumple in a small ball. With a grunt, he threw it against the wall and followed it with his eyes as it rolled a little on the floor and under the bed.

A heartbeat later, he had dropped his bundle of clothes and crouched on the floor, reaching for the tiny ball. He snatched it, and with slightly trembling fingers, he smoothed it.

_"Do you love me, Remus?" she cut across his explanations._

_It was the most stupid question of the century, but that did not make it any easier to answer, for Remus knew there would be consequences to what he was about to say. And yet, he needed to be honest with her, he had always been._

_"I do. I love you more than I ever thought it would be possible to love anyone."_

_"Then…?" she said quietly, approaching him again._

_He had his answer ready, he just needed her to understand it._

_"I won't be with you, I can't. It is already dangerous enough as it is! It's because I love you that I want to keep you safe!" He suddenly felt he was wasting time. "And now, if they find out what I'm up to, they might try and hurt you. I won't put you in more danger because of me!"_

_"But-"_

_"I know you don't care, but you have to listen to me! I will go to them, I have to."_

_"You don't have to," she said, her eyes flashing and her jaw tight._

_She looked beautiful in her fury, but Remus had to stay focused, or he would not be able to leave her ever. _

_"I have to, and I need you to understand. I will go and I won't be able to get in touch. Not with you, nor with anybody."_

He could not throw the parchment; he could not throw it all away.

It had been stupid, but she had been real. They had been real and trying to clear it all off would be an insult. A blasphemy against the only good thing that had happened in his life for a very long time.

With the tip of his fingers he traced the words.

"You know I love you..." he said quietly, "perhaps too much."

He grabbed his wand and pointed the tip at the parchment, concentrating hard. The words vanished. It felt as physical pain. Almost as it had felt not long ago, when her door had closed at his back for good.

Remus left the parchment and the wand and waited for a moment or two, hoping his little idea would work. Then, focusing on her, he took the small note again. At the contact with his skin, the words appeared slowly, as if they were being written again. The spell had worked.

"You made me happy too, Dora," he muttered, folding the parchment into a small square and shoving it into the depths of the front pocket of his trousers. He knew Tonks' handwriting would disappear again there. There was not much risk on it.

_"I'll wait for you to come back," she said defiantly._

_"Don't."_

_"This isn't something for you to decide."_

_He glared at her, wanting to argue, to try and reason with her again how useless it all would be, what a waste of time for her to wait for somebody like him. She was partially right, though. As much as he wanted to, there were decisions she had to take on her own. And she would be, Remus was sure of that; Tonks would only need some time._

_"Don't wait for me," he said, knowing that, at the moment those were empty words for her, but feeling that he ought to say them nonetheless. "Don't put your life on hold because of me."_

_She looked at him for a long moment; then, Remus head her sigh deeply. With two steps, she was right in front of him again. Ignoring his stiffness, she took his hands in hers._

_"Be safe, Remus. Please, be safe," Tonks whispered, and he saw tears running down her cheeks. He had to make a supreme effort not to raise his hand and wipe them away. That was precisely why he was no good for her. She needed somebody at her side that would not make her cry._

_Too bad that he needed _her_. _

_Without being able to stop himself, he hugged her, filling his lungs with her scent and wishing time would hold still for an eternity so he could keep on holding her in his arms._

_"I will," he said quietly._

_A second later, she had put her lips on his and for a wild moment, Remus felt he could give in. All his reasoning was crumbling. Somebody else could do it, he could be useful to the Order in other ways, he did not need to go if his place was here, with Tonks kissing him fiercely._

_It was not her place though. She could do better._

_So, mustering all his determination, Remus took a step back, and not being able to look at her again, he walked out and closed the door. For a moment he stood there, but there was no sound coming from the other side._

There was nothing else for him now. No reasons to delay his departure. Slowly, Remus took his bundle and his wand again, headed to the front door and exited his flat.

* * *

**AN: Harry Potter and the character related are property of J. K. Rowling. **

**Parts of Tonks' Tale CH 75 are quoted.**

**Thanks a lot to all of you!**


	78. The air around him was hot and humid

The air around him was hot and humid; the sky, overcast.

Remus was not sure if Greyback's pack or any other pack for what mattered would still be there. Why should they? This place was probably known by Aurors and Hit-Wizards, and Greyback himself was not exactly welcome by either group.

And yet, on that joke of a mission he had had with Tonks not so long ago he had met him here. Perhaps, aware of his own power, he just refused to move.

The top of the large chimney was barely visible through the fog, but Remus could feel its presence, towering over him. It was not like the first time, though, when he had _wanted_ to join this pack and he had crossed the swamp with a determination that had even some hope in it.

Now he felt just empty, except from the foul fumes coming from the wetland. The pain he had had since leaving Tonks had been hushed up somewhere. There were much more important things to do than feeling sorry for himself or for her.

He glanced around, looking for signs that there was somebody leaving nearby, even though he knew better than that. Greyback had been always careful controlling the individuals in his pack; he did not want to be too noted.

Remus walked carefully towards the abandoned factory. He did not want to make his entrance evident, but he knew it would not do to sneak either. He just needed to go inside and introduce himself, as he had done that first time, hoping that he would be accepted. After his last two encounters with Greyback, the last of which ending with him actually stunning the werewolf, he knew it would not be as easier as it had been that time.

He wished he had not left his wand on one of the topmost branches of a tree after Apparating. Being disarmed was unsettling, to say the least. For the umpteenth time in the past days he considered his decision of not bringing it with him. From what he remembered of Greyback's pack, most werewolves did not carry wands. Some of them because they had been taken away from her families before they turned eleven and had never got the chance to own a wand; others because they had refuse to use them, lacking the proper training; a few others, because having offending Greyback somehow, had had theirs taken away. Remus much feared he would belong to the group of the offenders, at least for now. It was better to be prepared for the eventuality.

At least he reached the large dripping entrance to the sewers. Still he had not met a living soul and he was getting more restless with every step.

Carefully, he climbed inside the pipe and started walking. His steps were doing a soft splashing sound. He could walk nearer the walls and avoid it, but he did not want to give the impression he was hiding.

There was not a sign there was anybody living in there either, but Remus knew they used to go much further inside; they even occupied part of the foundations and the basement of the abandoned factory. He just needed to walk a little more.

The hard blow on his head made him stumble, but before he could spin around and face whatever it was that had hit him, there was a second blow and all went black around him.

The hard pain on his ribs made his eye snap open. Remus tried to stand up, but his head was spinning and he only managed to sit on the hard surface. It was dry, even though his clothes were drenched and reeking.

He looked around. A bluish fire was glowing nearby, the sight of it made Remus' heart leap; somebody was using a wand around. The next second though, he took in the three men looking down at him and his spirits sunk.

"This is a surprise, really," Fenrir Greyback was speaking slowly. He walked around Remus and he tried to stand up again. This time it was not his head that prevented him to do so, but a hard blow on his back that took away his breath.

He looked sideways and saw one of the men drawing back his arm, an unpleasant grin of yellow teeth distinguishable at the dim lights.

"You coming here, risking messing up your robes, to what do we owe the honour, eh?"

Without trying to rise again, Remus looked at Greyback who had stopped his pacing right in front of him.

"I'm back," he said with a voice that sounded more like a grunt.

"What for?"

"For good."

Greyback resumed his pacing around him.

"For good," he repeated, in a derisive voice. The two men laughed. "Why?"

It was difficult to think with his head and ribs throbbing painfully. It was hard to breath in the damp, dirty sewers; the reek of the three men was making it almost unbearable. He had to focus though, on giving Greyback the right answers. It all hung on what he would say next, on how capable he would be of keeping the werewolf satisfied.

"Because you were right, there's no place for me out there."

The other two men laughed and Remus risked properly looking at them. He did not recognise the one who had just hit him; the other one he remembered well. His name was Jock. He had been a lieutenant of sorts for Greyback the last time he had tried to join the pack; apparently he was keeping that very special rank. Remus doubted, though, that knowing him from before would help him in any way.

"And you realised it just now…"

"I've known it all along. It's just… wasn't easy to go."

Before he could block it, Remus saw Greyback's foot shooting right into his jaw. The force of the blow made him hit his head against the floor. His mouth filled with blood and his cheek burned; he felt his right hand twitching instinctively towards a wand he did not have.

He had no time to pull himself together. Greyback's boots were in front of him again. He bent down at his size and grabbed a handful of Remus' hair, pulling him into a sitting position again. The sight of the werewolf's yellowish eyes just centimetres from him and the strong smell of tobacco, alcohol and raw meat made him pull back even though it hurt.

Trying not to show how repellent it all was, he spat a mouthful of blood of his mouth on the floor. For a wild moment Remus remembered wistfully the scent of the swamp. It seemed impossible than no long ago it had seemed foul to him

"Listen here you traitor," Greyback spoke. "You're just a coward wimp, a wizard's pet."

The men at his back back snorted again.

"You're a disgrace to us. You've tried to be with them, you've tried to blend in, haven't you?" He turned around and faced the other two, without letting go of Remus' hair. "He went to school, he'd applied for jobs-" their laughter grew louder and Greyback joined in. "He was pals with Dumbledore! With that old fool that pretends we should control ourselves every full moon in order to live amongst _normal_ people." It was clod fury running through Remus' veins, pulsating, making him shake. Greyback got even closer to Remus, "you tried to be friends with them, right? And… you had a woman, didn't you? A bitch to mate?"

It was an instant, a bright flash of light and Remus heard Greyback's yelp before seeing him jump back and hit the floor. He had not meant to do it, he had tried to control it, but he had failed. Everything was ruined now.

And yet, Greyback did not seem angry. His expression of surprise turned into a grin, and he started laughing softly. The gesture was so repulsive Remus almost wished he would keep on taunting him.

"You see, boys," he spoke slowly to the other two, who were no longer laughing. Jock shifted a little on the spot and the other one just looked a tad confused. It was plain to Remus they had considered for a second to attack him again and Greyback's reaction had puzzled them. "He's not just anybody. He's useful; he'll make a good asset once we remove the wizarding nonsense off him. Where's your wand, Remus?" he asked, standing up and getting closer again, apparently not caring about possible further outbursts of magic.

"I don't have it," he replied, looking straight into his eyes.

"What do you mean you don't have it?" Greyback said in a hoarse whisper, crouching in front of him again. "Where is it?"

"It snapped," Remus said, shrugging. "I didn't get a new one."

With a swift movement, the werewolf grabbed the front of Remus' robes and made him stand up. Not letting him go, he pushed forward until Remus felt his back hit the brick wall.

"You fool! Of what use are you to me if you don't have a wand?!" He looked at the other two werewolves. "Search him!" And giving a step back, he let go of Remus. He felt his knees buckle, but he managed to stay upright.

Roughly, Jock stripped him off his cloak and searched it for hidden pockets, while the other untied his bundle and scattered its contents on the floor. He prodded at them with a dirty shoe and Remus was glad he had brought so little with him.

"It's empty," Jock grunted, throwing the cloak on the floor. Then he patted Remus' back and front, looking for something hidden. Remus' mind was on the small piece of parchment on his front pocket. Would Jock notice it? He did not, and it was with a push that he let go of Remus.

"Nothing here," said his companion.

"You are really a useless fool." Greyback said, approaching him again. "Why should I take you in?"

Remus did not know what to say. Despite it all, though, he could not regret having left his wand behind. All this interest on it could not foretell anything good.

"You want it?" Greyback said again. "You get me a wand," he poked Remus' chest with a dirty finger several times, "you go out there, you do what you have to do, and you come back with a wand. Otherwise, you've got no business in here. You've got a week."

Greyback turned around and headed to a dark opening on the brick wall.

"Show him a spot," he called at his back.

Jock waited for a couple of seconds and then addressed the other one. "I'll do it. You," he pointed at Remus with his fingers, "come along."

In a hurry, not precisely glad to bend lower, Remus grabbed his scattered possessions and walked behind the man. He noticed he was limping a little, he could not remember if he had done so the last time he had seen him.

"So you're back, pretty boy," Jock sneered.

Remus did not answer.

"You're up to something, I can tell," he continued. "And Fenrir can tell to, don't fool yourself thinking he doesn't."

"I'm not-"

"Why would anybody like you want to leave a warm bed and some square meals for this?" Jock snapped. "Sudden loyalty to your kind?" he laughed bitterly.

They were walking through a maze of low ceiling corridors; there was no sign of the main pipe. Remus realised they must have carried him a long way when they knocked him out.

"I've nowhere to go," Remus said with a grunt.

"Not true." Jock said.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes until finally they reached the tunnel and Remus felt water under his feet again.

Jock took a smaller branch to their left and they walked further into the sewers. The reek was much stronger here. They turned into another corner and Remus felt before he saw, the bodies gathered inside a small chamber. There was another blue bonfire in the middle of the room and even though it was not warm, several individuals were crouched next to it, looking at the movements of the flames as if mesmerised by them. Others had their backs against the wall. A couple of them looked up at Jock and Remus with the smallest hint of curiosity in their eyes.

"They don't have nowhere to go," Jock spoke again. "You," he looked at Remus up and down, "you had a choice."

And with that, he turned around and left him.

Remus had to ignore the reverberating of Jock's words inside his head. It would not do to dwell on that now. The werewolf was suspicious, that was the only thing that should worry him now.

He walked slowly pass the fire and the people not making eye contact with anybody. The full moon was weeks away and the werewolves should be less belligerent now, but there was never a guarantee and he had to avoid starting fights.

There was an empty spot near the wall, free from bodies or rags. He approached it and stood there for a moment. Nobody reacted. He looked at the man sitting nearest, the man looked back, uninterested.

Ready for him or anybody else to attack, Remus crouched slowly until finally he reached a sitting position, his back against the wall. It had been a long, complicated day and he was tired, but the aching of his body where Greyback and the others had hit him was preventing for him to find a comfortable position.

Just as well, Remus though. It might not be the wisest decision to just fall asleep surrounded by unknown werewolves.


	79. The individual following him was good

The individual following him was good. He was so good, in fact, that Remus was starting to doubt he was being followed at all. But he had to be. If he knew Greyback, and he was certain he did to some extent, he would not have allow him to just wander off on his own and then come back. He would not trust whether Remus would tell somebody what he had already seen inside the sewers, how many werewolves there were or with whom was Greyback working.

No. Remus was certain all of this was not only about him securing a wand, but also about the methods he would use, and even about to what extent loyalty was to be expected from him.

So, the hard part would not be the finding a stealing of a wand, but doing it so in a way he hoped Greyback would find mildly interesting once his invisible follower would give him his or her report. At the same time, he had to be careful not to reveal too much about what he could actually do. A wandless summoning charm would have been just the thing and he knew he could do it, with some difficulty but successfully. Only, he was not very comfortable about Greyback knowing he _could_ do that. It might come a time in which that particular skill could prove itself to be useful; it would be safer to keep it secret as well.

Reluctantly, he had had to chose his victim. Feeling weak and exposed himself without his wand, he did not want for somebody else to live through that as well, but he knew he just had to do it. If his plan proved to be a good one, and he was convinced it had to be, some unknown witch or wizard losing a wand would be the less of the possible evils.

Around the area there were only four magical folks he could identify. There was a baker and his wife, the elderly owner of a pub and a somewhat wealthy merchant of potion ingredients. He had lost two whole days in the endeavour of finding them amongst the Muggle living in the nearby small city, and he did not want to waste any more time just in case something went wrong and he would have to try to steal the wand more than once.

The merchant had been singled out only because Remus suspected that from all of them, he was the one whose economy would not be much affected by the need of purchasing a new wand.

Meanwhile, he had decided he would just steal the wand at the dead of night instead of trying to confront or fight the wizard. It required some skill but it would probably work, while not showing him as somebody prone to violence, as he was sure, Greyback would have wanted him to be. It was important that the werewolf was satisfied by his performance, but just not that much, or he, Remus, would be sent to dangerous, violent missions. And of course, there was always the possibility of the portly merchant to be much more of a fist fighter than Remus.

During the third night of this mission of sorts, he just watched the merchant's house, while trying to figure out exactly where the follower was. At some point, he thought he'd heard the leaves of a nearby bush moving quite unnaturally under the non-existent breeze, but he could not be sure it was not a small animal or a gnome. Despite of his predicament, he could not help but feel a rush of admiration for the unknown werewolf trailing behind him.

The portly man had sat on his kitchen for a long while, having supper on his own and listening to the WWN. A moment past midnight, he had finally stood up and climbed upstairs to his bedroom. Remus watched the man's silhouette getting ready for bed and entering the bathroom a few times before finally settling on his bed and turning off the lights. He could not be sure, but it seemed that he kept his wand on the side table.

Apparently he had not casted any security spells around his property, but Remus could not be sure, not without a wand anyway. From his observation point, hidden in the shadow of the small trees that separated the merchant's house from his neighbours', he felt frustrated. All of a sudden, all the spells he knew he could use flooded into his mind, as a grim reminder of how useless he was without a wand of his own.

He needed to think. There was no point of him attempting stealing the wand if, on the first step inside the house, some sort of alarm would be triggered. But how was he to know?

A memory made its way pass all the useless spells he had been muttering under his breath. Ginny had been pacing up and down the hallway of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, a bag on his hand and looking down at the floor. It had been a very long time ago; if he recalled correctly, almost right after they Weasleys had moved in.

"Can I help you, Ginny?" he had asked, exiting the sitting room.

She had given a start and had spun around to look at him with a guilty look that made her look almost exactly like her elder twin brothers.

"Hello, Professor. Didn't know you were there."

Remus had smiled at her, idly wondering if he should tell her that she did not need to call him Professor anymore. She had given him a would-be casual look around and then, trying to sound natural, she had made it to the stairs.

"I'll go upstairs then," she had added.

"Where you looking for something?" Remus had asked, now curious about what the mischief was about.

"Yeah... no... eh... it's just... Crookshanks. He keeps playing with dungbombs around here and I wanted to retrieve them..."

Remus had tried for his smile to be as friendly as possible.

"I can help you with that." He had taken off his wand and, almost expecting for noting to happen, he had said, "_Accio_ dungbombs."

Three objects had flown right from the darkest corner of the hallway, next to the kitchen door, into his hands. He had been so sure it had been just a bad excuse of Ginny's he had to hastily open his hand to grab them at the last second.

"Thanks a lot!" Ginny had said, scooping the dungbombs off his grip and hastily putting them in her bag. Remus barely registered the many more inside it. Looking at the place the missing ones had came from, he had an idea of what all of this was about.

"Funny, isn't it?" he had said, putting his hands in his pockets and trying for his voice to be conspiratorial.

"The spell?" Ginny had asked, her eyes wide open.

"Not the spell, no. The fact the, of all places, Crookshanks seemed to like this very spot so much, isn't it?"

"Really?" Ginny had looked at him blankly but he had been sure her eyes had flickered for a split second to the kitchen's door and back to the bag full of dungbombs. "Cats are weird, I guess."

"I know," Remus had continued. "But this one... this one seemed to have developed an habit of eavesdropping."

For a moment Ginny had looked challenging at him, and then she had lowered her shoulders and, looking at her feet, she had sighed.

"All right."

"All right?"

"I was just trying to see if the door was unperturbed or not," she had said, very fast, barely breathing. "So we'll know if the Extendable Ears would work on it."

Remus had failed to see the relation at the time until suddenly...

"So it's you the one throwing these dungbombs here?"

"To the door, yeah."

Remus had arched and eyebrow.

"And how on earth would throwing dungbombs at a door tell you if it's unperturbed?"

Ginny had seemed to consider something in her mind for a moment before speaking again.

"Tonks told me," she whispered. "She just showed me yesterday and I guess that if she thinks it's all right... you know, being an Auror and all that..."

"Come on, that's rubbish," Remus had said with a chuckle.

"I don't want her to get into trouble either," she had said, now defiantly.

"She won't get into trouble with me," he had protested. "I'm far too scared of her."

Ginny had chuckled. "Yeah right."

"Being an Auror and all that..."

Back at the time he had been not exactly scared but definitely very distant of her. Or, to be accurate, it had been her the one trying to keep her distance from him. Around that time, Remus remembered, she had found out he was a werewolf and she had not taken it nicely at all.

"Are you gonna tell mum?" Ginny had asked, taking him out of his musings on Tonks.

Remus had tried his best to look serious but he had failed and after a moment, his smile had given in.

"No, I'm not. It would be hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?"

"Thanks," Ginny had beamed.

"Only, I cannot promise I won't be extra careful on unperturbing that door for future Order meetings."

"Fair enough," she had said, almost as if she was accepting a challenge.

"Could you explain me, though, exactly what it was that Tonks told you?"

She grinned. "If you throw something at a door or a window or whatever, and that thing is unperturbed, the object won't be able to make contact with it. It'll just bounce off. She said that happens with many protective spells. Not all of them, though, only the everyday-soft ones. But she'd assured me nobody would use the hardcore ones indoor, lest of all in a house with kids on it," Ginny chuckled. "She said not even Moody."

Remus had laughed at that. It had sounded so much like the Tonks he had started to know. Careful, funny, and with a mischievous demeanour that had matched his own almost at once.

Now, deep in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the dark window of the merchant's bedroom, the memory tasted bitter. He had not stopped to think about her since he had left his own flat, knowing that the minute he would do that, there would not be a way to stop the memories, both happy and sad, of the two of them together.

There was something else in his memory, though. Tonks had known, Ginny had told him. There was a way for him to know if there were charms around the house, without having to use magic.

The feeling that Tonks was still helping him from such a long distance made him feel strange, grateful, but also lonely and guilty. Still, he knew he had no time to dwell on that. He felt at the earth around him, looking for suitable objects. There were some fragments of branches and small stones; those would just have to do.

Careful to stay in the darkness, he inched as close to the house as he dared, without risking being seen should the merchant stand up and look outside his window. Taking one of the smaller stones, he aimed for the door. The small noise made him almost sigh aloud in relief. So, that door was not umperturbed, at least. And if Ginny had had her facts right, and if Tonks had had them as well, something he would not doubt for a second, that door was also free of minor defensive spells. _Not the hard-core ones, though_.

Still, that man was just a merchant. Why on earth would he want to put a strong curse on the entrance of his house? It was not even there where he kept the goods, it just wouldn't make any sense at all.

He would just have to risk it.

The next evening he was again at the same spot, having witnessed again the man's late night routine before going to bed. Remus' pursuer had grown a little tired, apparently, or maybe it was just him, Remus, who had started noticing things. He could now distinguish some small movements now and then, probably when the unknown werewolf needed to shift his position.

The light of the merchant's bedroom was finally out, and Remus waited for a long moment just in case he had some trouble falling asleep.

Finally, he decided it was now or never. Again, he threw some small branches at the front door and at the window next to it, trying his best not to make too much noise. They collided with it without making anything but a muffled _thud_. Lowering his body, Remus crept towards the front door and waited next to it for a moment, listening intently. There was not a sound from the inside or from the houses nearby. Slowly, he stretched a hand towards the window. If something was there, he would have to learn the hard way.

Almost sure that something would indeed hit him, he winced as the tips of his fingers touched the cold glass panes of the window. Nothing happened. Letting off a breath he had not realised he was holding, Remus fidgeted with the glass pane seeing if there was a way to open it. As he had suspected, there was none.

Even though he had not wanted to perform any wandless magic if he could avoid it, he had not come with a better solution to this part of his task. Concentrating hard on the window, he closed his eyes and pressed his palm against the glass. A second later, it vanished, leaving a space big enough for Remus' arm to get inside and open the latch of the whole window. Less than a moment later, he was inside a small sitting room, filled with overstuffed chairs.

He looked around, his path illuminated only by the pale light of a crescent moon, over the small tables and on the mantelpiece just in case the merchant had left his wand lying around, although he was almost sure he would not have such luck. After looking around the kitchen and a small studio, he reached the conclusion that his objective had to be upstairs.

Remus made his way carefully, taking one wooden step at the time and wincing whenever it creaked. After what seemed to be a very long time, he found himself in a landing, facing three doors. The first one was open and he could make up a bathroom. The other two were closed. He did not need to follow the loud snoring coming from the first one on his left; from looking at the house from the outside, he knew where the merchant's bedroom was.

Taking a large amount of air, he approached the door, again half-fearing he would find some sort of enchantment in it. Nothing happened. Carefully he opened it, hiding the possible sounds he could make by synchronizing them with the man's snoring.

His eyes were immediately drawn to his objective. A short, thick wand was lying over a set of drawers, its tip pointing at him.

Remus took the two steps that separated him from it and, sighing in relief, he closed his grip on the wand's handle.


	80. It was just a piece of wood

The wood felt warm on Remus' fingers, but he knew it was his imagination. It was just a piece of wood…

No, he knew that was not true. It was, in fact, so much more.

The merchant's loud snore took him quickly out of his musings and he spun around to see the man stirring. From where he was standing, he could not be certain, but was he opening his eyes? Remus did not want to linger and find out. Gripping his hold on the wand, he headed for the open door and in a couple of long strides he was back at the landing.

More noises came from the bed, and some sort of grunting. The man, apparently, had not noticed Remus' presence… yet. He rapped the top of his head with the wand casting a non-verbal disillusionment charm. The uncomfortable trickle down sensation told him he had succeeded, despite of his use of somebody else's wand.

Still careful not to make a sound, he climbed down the stairs, just in time to hear the merchant standing up and paddling around. He might just want to go to the bathroom. Would he look for his wand? Remus crossed the sitting room as quickly as he dared.

"_Alohomora_!" he whispered pointing the short wand towards the front door, which emitted a satisfying _click_ before opening. He was finally outside, the wand secured in his grip.

For a moment he considered Disapparating closer to the swamp, just because now he had a wand and he could do it, but he thought better of it. There was no hurry on going back to the sewers and, if he evaporated in thin air, he very much doubted his follower would be quick enough to grab him and side-along Apparate with him. And it was very important for him that that invisible follower knew his every move.

So, slowly, he started walking back to the pack.

It had been only four days without a wand and, moreover, forcing himself not to do magic of any kind. Now, twirling the wand in his hand, he realised how much he had missed his own, especially considering how delicate his position now was. He felt tempted of performing random spells only because he could but that might give away how much dependable of the wand he had become and that would not do either.

When Remus finally reached the entrance to the sewers, he focused on his surroundings. There was one thing he felt he had to do before facing Fenrir Greyback.

Taking advantage of the shadows at the entrance of the labyrinth of pipes, he pointed the wand at the water and sent small pebbles bouncing against its surface towards the inside. Then, he pressed his back against the curved wall and waited.

He could swear somebody was out there, listening carefully to the soft splashes of the pebbles he had just charmed. When the sound died away, he finally saw the person that had been his companion for the last three days. It was a man, maybe even a boy, he could not be sure at the dim light, small and skinny. With a jump he entered the main sewer and started walking with quick, silent steps.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Remus stepped out the shadows, blocking the man's path. "_Lumos_!"

The light of the wand showed that it was indeed a very young man looking back at him, not a trace of fear or discomfort in his features.

"Bit dull, if you ask me," he said with a sneer.

"Was it?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I thought I was in for a bit of action when they told me who you were."

"And who I am?" Remus asked, a little disconcerted by the calmness of the man.

"Shouldn't you know that?"

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"Who did they told you I am then?"

"Yeah, and I should tell you because…"

Remus shrugged. "Let's have it your way, then."

He turned around, slightly taken aback. Despite of the cheeky behaviour of the young man, there was something not entirely unpleasant about him. Only, he was not really sure how he was to approach him.

"What gave me away?" he heard the man calling at his back. Remus could not help but smile.

Slowly, he turned around. The man's head was slightly cocked to one side, looking at Remus' every move.

"Nothing," Remus shrugged.

"Then?" he looked puzzled.

"You are good, and you know it. Only, I just knew Greyback would send somebody after me."

The young man nodded. "Makes sense."

"What's your name?" Remus asked.

"Ezekiel."

"I'm-"

"Lupin, I know," the young man cut across.

Both look at each other for a moment.

"I'll try to act lest dully for you, the next time they send me to do something," Remus said, and this time he did walk away. He thought he heard Ezekiel's steps behind him but it could as well be his imagination.

* * *

It was frustrating. Disgusting. Disturbing.

Sitting on the corner he had picked the first day he had come back to the pack, his back against the wall, he wished he could turn off the noises around him. He wished he could go away, even for a short moment, and try to breathe and listen to nothing but the silence of a calm night.

None of it was possible.

The wand he had secured had been snatched from him the moment Greyback had seen it.

"You don't have use for that in here," he had snarled.

"Why asking me to retrieve it, then?" Remus said, trying hard to keep his voice even, not showing the longing he felt for that wand and for all that it represented; the longing for his old life.

"You'll use it, all right. But not now. I'll tell you when."

Remus did not know what to say, so he just went away, wishing he could do something other than just accept what was going on around him. He would, he kept on saying to himself, slowly and one by one he would do something, he would convince somebody, he would fight Greyback.

Only now, more than two weeks had passed and optimism was something almost impossible to maintain. Not when he had barely left the sewers in all that time. Not when his only company was a pack of werewolves with no interest of relating to him unless it was because they wanted to fight him for some reason, or steal his ration of food.

During the first week after retrieving the wand, Greyback had ignored him. He had tried to take advantage of it one day, trying to get out. One large werewolf had been at his side almost at once. The hard blow on his head replaced the one he had gotten on his first day. He wanted to defend himself but he continued convinced of what he had thought at the beginning. If Greyback saw him as a suitable fighter, as somebody violent, he would be sent to attack when the full moon came. If he was considered not fit for it, Greyback might spare him for other purposes.

That decision, though, had meant that after the first blow, he had just stayed on the floor, while the werewolf distributed well aimed kicks all over his body. Meanwhile, Remus concentrated hard on not producing any magic he did not mean to.

The second week, Greyback had finally taken notice of his presence and had decided he could go with a group of werewolves to get some food. Remus knew that meant stealing. As a rule, the pack went as far away as possible to secure food and supplies. They did not want to draw excessive attention to the area by making the neighbours complain or call the Department of Law Enforcement. According to Greyback's plans, they were to pick random, far away locations for their plunders.

It had been a difficult task. The group had lacked organisation, so they just used their own strength to force Muggles to give them what they needed. Remus' attempts on just taking things without much disturbance to their owners had been received with sneers and insults. They not only were violent; they enjoyed it.

As the full moon approached, the atmosphere inside the sewers became excruciating. Remus had been only too keen to forget some of the details of his life amongst werewolves. This crude, violent, lustful anticipation had been one of them. He was almost sure it had not been like that the last time he had joined this pack. He tried to convince himself that maybe the fact that there were more individuals now made it all much less bearable than last time.

It was not true, though, and Remus knew it. Between his last time here and now, loads of things had happened. He had tasted a potion that had given him peace of mind and body, he had known happiness and acceptance, rediscovered friendship and comradeship, and he had woken up from his transformations to the caring arms and warm kisses of Tonks.

The thought of her under his present conditions make it hard to breathe, as if an iron hand were gripping his insides. He fished into his pocket for that small piece of parchment that rested there. Remus took a glance around making sure nobody was looking at him. They were not, concentrating on their own fights or on trying to secure more food. He took out the note and smoothed it with his fingers.

_You make me absurdly happy._

He would have thought those words were mocking him, but it was not about the message any more It was about her. He tried to imagine what she was doing at the moment. Was she on a mission? Were there any risks? Probably. Was she thinking of him as well? He hoped not, but then his selfish thoughts were much stronger. He wanted her to think about him, he wanted her to miss him. He wanted to believe that, when Tonks had said she would wait for him to come back, she had really meant it. Remus hated himself for thinking like that.

The entrance of Greyback made him almost startle. Trying to pass it as a casual movement, Remus pushed the piece of parchment back to the bottom of his trouser's pocket.

The werewolf started giving instructions. Places where they had to be at the moment of their transformation. The ones who had been more restless had had a good reason for it: most of them were given specific locations, towns, houses, outskirts of cities, places where they should wait for the full moon to perform her monthly curse so they could strike. To the rest, Greyback did not pay any attention and Remus sighed in relief.

For that night, he was free from having to be as much of a beast as Greyback expected him to be.

* * *

His own ragged breathing seemed to have woken him up. Remus was lying on a somewhat soft surface, his face on the ground. He could smell wet earth and, when he opened his eyes, he saw green grass around him. The sun was high on the sky and its rays touched his exposed skin. A second later, he distinguished another smell, a very familiar one. Blood.

Remus heaved on his hands, trying to gain a sitting position. His arms trembled, but he succeeded. All those full moons he had spent under the protection of Wolfsbane Potion might have been a wonderful dream. Now he was back to a long learned routine, that he had started remembering the last month, when he had avoided drinking the potion and he had decided to transform inside the small shack at his parents' old house.

Carefully he started checking his arms and legs, to assess the amount of damage. Judging from the difficult it was to breath, he thought he had broken a rib but he had not. The damage must be internal. There were deep cuts on his legs and arms, and a nasty looking bleeding wound on his right shoulder. His head was throbbing painfully and he touched it with the tips of his fingers. Sure enough, there was a large lump, a new one, above his left ear.

He felt weak, empty, lonely. How late it was? How far was he?

Remus tried to remember everything they could from the night before.

At some point, Jock had ordered them to go outside. Some of the werewolves that had received specific orders had already left to their chosen locations. Remus had considered sending a message to Kingsley or Moody, alerting him of where to place Aurors and avoid the attacks but he could not think of a way to do it, so the only thing to do was to wait, frustration mixing with the uncomfortable feeling of his own body preparing for the transformation.

Outside in the swamp Remus had felt it much stronger: the full moon was approaching. At his side, a man had pushed him and then snarled at him, almost as if he was trying to provoke a fight. Some strange internal pull had seemed to want him to respond, but he had steeled himself and walked away from the man. There was the need to put some distance with the rest of the pack, he did not want to risk having to fight another transformed werewolf, if he could avoid it.

When the white light of the moon had started casting strange glows on the surroundings, Remus broke into a run, as far from the buildings as possible, as far as his human mind would take him, while there was still time.

Now, he walked slowly on his wounded legs for what seemed like hours. It had taken him a while to figure out where he was and how to get back to the sewers. Apparently, his wolfish form had continued doing what his human self had set out to do, and he had run a long distance.

The entrance was quiet, nobody was about. A bundle of rags lied next to it and Remus took one to wrap his body on it. Inside the large pipes, golden flames casted strange shadows on the surfaces; apparently Greyback had allowed them to make normal, warm fires now. To the foul smell of his surrounding, that was starting to feel familiar to Remus, there were new scents to add. Sweat, blood, cheap alcohol, rotten meat.

"There you are," Jock's voice at his back made him startle. He had just emerged from another large tunnel. "Here", he added roughly thrusting something into Remus' hand.

He looked down to find the short, thick wand he had stolen from the merchant.

"You'll heal them," Jock said, gesturing the tunnels with his chin, "with that," he pointed at the wand. "We need them fit and ready as soon as possible."

* * *

**AN: ****Thanks a lot to roflshvuakomail, Louey06, Blue Luver5000, DanH2010 (thanks for all those lovely reviews!), Snarky64 and MuggleCreator for all the patience and for the reviews! Thanks to emma brun, FervaT and dinosoprano (welcome back!) as well! You people make my day!**

**This story will be 100 chapters long, just as Tonks' Tale so... 20 chapters to go!**

**Cheers!**


	81. You know how this works, Fenrir

"You know how this works, Fenrir," Remus grunted, trying to sound much more confident than what he really felt. "It's not just waving the wand. I need potions."

Greyback was pacing lazily into one large chamber Remus now knew he had taking for himself. He was drinking from a bottle of some dark liquid in his hand.

"Just patch them up. You can do that, can you?"

"Broken bones, open wounds; that I can do. Not the bites. There is no way you could heal a coursed would made by a werewolf with just a wand. Not even a healer from St. Mungo's would be able to do it."

Greyback moved fast but Remus was faster. He ducked to his side and avoided that the almost empty bottle collided with his head.

"You're useless!" Greyback growled.

"That's the point! I am!" Remus growled back. "I need those ingredients or, if I could get the potion already brewed, much the better! Especially for the new ones. There are one or two that will die unless they're properly treated. You'll end up with nothing from them."

He was not exaggerating. That was one of the many things he hated the most about being back with the pack. The days after the full moon. To some extent, every individual had wounds or blows, some of them self inflicted, like Remus' own, most of them caused by fellow werewolves. They could recover from those bites, of course, their blood being already cursed, but it was a difficult recovery and a painful one at that. Sometimes there was not even complete healing. Remus suspected that's what had happened to Jock, the reason while he was now limping.

And now there were the new additions to the pack. Four people had been brought in, three children and one adult. Remus had been sent to see them the moment he had gotten the wand from Jock. One of the kids, a small pale boy, was already dead, his body almost unrecognisable under the many dirty wounds somebody had inflicted him. The way in which one werewolf had taken him outside, carrying him as if he was a bag of potatoes, made Remus felt nauseated.

The second one seemed to be almost all right, he was an older kid, but not still old enough to go to school. He was the one Greyback had bitten himself and it was no less impressive. The werewolf had been careful to give him just a small bite, a controlled one, one that would take a lot of time to heal but that would not put on risk the kid's life. Knowing that Greyback had achieved this level of self-restraint was as disturbing as anything else.

It was the other two, though, the ones that he was most concerned about. They were stable, for the time being, and they might remain so for many days until the curse of the bites would start taking over their bodies. The many wounds they had had weaken their defences to fight it and without said fight, they would die before they could transform.

Remus had thought grimly if it would not be better for him not to do a thing a let them go. He discarded the thought at once. Of course, healing them would mean to doom her to a cursed existence, but the alternative, that slow painful death, was something he had not right to decide upon.

"How long would it take?" Greyback asked, without making a reference to the bottle he had just smashed against the wall, trying to hit Remus.

"For them to die? A couple of weeks. They won't make it to the next full moon."

"For you to fetch those wretched ingredients."

"One or two days."

"Impossible! You have to be quicker than that."

"I can't just go into the Apothecary and ask for them, can I?" Remus yelled, realising that this sort of bravado was much more effective with Greyback that calm reasoning.

The werewolf resumed his pacing of the room.

"If you're not back in two days, don't bother coming back at all."

As a reply, Remus grunted, and turned around to leave as quickly as he could without making the werewolf suspect something funny. The wand was still clutched in his hand.

* * *

Amongst the many wounded werewolf there was Ezekiel. Asking around, Remus found out he had started a fight with a much larger individual and was now nursing many bites and both legs broken. Before talking to Greyback he had already tended to his and the other members of the pack's wounds; the young man was in no fit state to follow him, though.

Remus exited the sewers, breathing heavily the night air and giving the ebbing moon an accusing look. He stretched his arms, his own wounds had been easy enough to heal but he was still feeling sore and stiff. Before Dissapparating, he took purposeful steps towards the nearest village, listening careful.

Of course, Greyback had sent somebody else to follow him; only this person was much less an expert as Ezekiel. It would be easy enough to shake this one off, Remus though, not only because of that lack of expertise but especially because of the wand he was still carrying. While trying to heal the wounded werewolves, he had felt a little clumsy with this new wand and had missed his very much. He was not going to risk retrieving it, though, so this one would have to do. He was a little concern about trying to Disapparate with it, but ha had no other choice.

Almost as if it was part of his regular walking, Remus spun around, a dark forest far north on his mind. He opened his eyes and checked his own body. He had not splinched and he had arrived precisely to the same spot he had wanted to. The merchant's wand had worked nicely. Around him all was silent except from the regular scurrying of small animals and the rustling of the leaves. He seemed to be alone.

He spun around again, this time concentrating on the outskirts of a Muggle village near the sea. For a third time he Disapparated and this time he arrived in Knockturn Alley. He would not linger here long, he only wanted to listen to whatever might have happened since he last had contact with the regular wizarding world. He knew best as to rely on the Daily Prophet for accurate information.

The Bloody Gallows was a dark pub, at the end of the alley, and Remus entered it resolutely. At the time it was packed with an assortment of witches and wizards, some of them, chatting; others, drinking silently, arguments bursting here and there. By listening to other's conversations he got an approximate idea of what had happened while he had been away. There had been Dementors' attacks, people had gone missing, and yet, none of the people he talked to seemed to know exactly what was going on.

During that night he visited other similar places, trying to get in touch with old acquaintances and eavesdropping whenever it was possible. He needed to make the best out of his time outside the pack. He knew he was probably the only one of the Order, besides maybe Mundungus Fletcher, that would risk showing up in these foulest of all places for wizardkind to gather.

At the early hours of the morning, he decided he had gotten enough information. Carefully looking around, he started again his routine of Apparating into different locations; another forest, the top of a mountain, the outskirts of a large city, always checking that he was not being followed. It was almost impossible, but he was concerned not only about his own security but others as well. Finally he Disapparated for the last time, into the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole.

There was a long walk but he did not mind. It was with anticipation that he imagined the warm glow of Molly and Arthur's kitchen, the possibility of, maybe, taking a shower and a couple of square meals and, above it all, the opportunity of being with real people.

The sun was starting to rise in a deep blue sky when he finally saw the outline of the Burrow. Just as he expected, there was light in the kitchen. When he approached it, he saw Molly, busy over a pot on the stove. He did not want to frighten her, so he knocked on the kitchen's window, softly. She looked up in alarm and, with a swift movement, pointed her wand at him. Remus raised both his arms in a surrendering gesture. At the sight of him, Molly smiled, and then frowned.

"It it I, Remus Lupin, werewolf, member of the Order of the Phoenix, former Professor at Hogwarts Sch-"

He could not keep on talking. Molly had opened the kitchen door and, grabbing him by his sleeve, had pulled him inside with much more force that he could have expected from her.

"Oh, Remus," she said, hugging him tightly.

He shifted uncomfortably. He knew that he was carrying the stench of the sewers, and that his usually patched robes were much more so, and yet Molly did not seem to mind.

"What's happened? What are you doing here? Are you all right?"

As gently as possible, Remus freed himself from the hug. "I'm fine. I just… got some time off. I am tasked to retrieve some potions to treat wounds."

"Wounds?" Molly arched an eyebrow.

"Werewolf bites, actually."

She sighed and looked at him for a long moment.

"Are you in a hurry?" she finally said.

"Not really, no. I should be back tonight or tomorrow morning."

"Then," she said, her voice not businesslike, "you get upstairs and have a lie down in Percy's old room." If mentioning her son still gave her pain, she did not show it. "I'll carry your breakfast upstairs and, if you feel like it, I'll wake you up for lunch. And don't worry about the potions, I'll see that Arthur or somebody from the Order gets them for you."

"That'll be brilliant, Molly."

"It's Harry's birthday, you know," she added, "we'll have a tiny bit of a celebration tomorrow."

Remus opened his eyes wide. He had absolutely forgotten about it.

"Never mind that, now," Molly said, taking in his expression. "Go and get some rest now."

Remus shuffled a little uncomfortable.

"Molly, would it be too much trouble if I… may I take a shower?"

She smiled sympathetically, and there was something else in her gaze, some deep emotion he could not figure out.

"Of course you can, so silly of me not having offered… you know where it all is, make yourself at home."

* * *

Remus looked out the window of Percy's bedroom at the bright afternoon sun up the hill. It was a gorgeous view but his mind was wandering far away from it.

He had had a nice, warm shower, and he had stayed under the water for much far long a time considering he was a guest, and a self-invited one at that. He had need it, though, the stinging feeling of the water on his half-healed wounds had been uncomfortable and yet, so very human. Molly had offered him a potion to treat his wounds but he had refused. Even if he was now in charge of healing the werewolves on the pack, it might not go amiss amongst them if he would show up too healed. His now freshly laundered robes were already a risk but he had not had the heart to tell Molly off for washing and patching them while he was asleep. He would have to roll on the mud for a while before going back to the sewers. The thought was funny and depressing at the same time.

Now, after a very long nap that had lasted most of the day, he would go downstairs to have tea and be forced three helpings of whatever Molly had been cooking for most of the afternoon, and whose aroma drifted upstairs.

He was indeed fortunate of being here, of having a place to go, people that genuinely liked him and cared for him.

Was it worth it to cast himself away from all that? Wasn't it too high a price for him to pay?

Those were questions Tonks would have probably raised, her dark eyes bright and her hands in fists. He never really stopped thinking about her, her image being always at the back of his mind, but in moments like this, in this so very familiar place, he felt he could see her everywhere.

Although Molly had mentioned in passing that she would be on a mission and therefore unable to come to Harry's birthday, Remus could not help but imagine what would be like if she decided to show up. Not nice, he decided. Although he wanted to see her more than anything else, he knew it would be for the worse. He was better off this way. She was better off this way.

After super he lingered inside the now unnaturally tidy kitchen of the Burrow. The kids had gone upstairs and Bill and Fleur were outside for a stroll under the moonlight. Remus could not repress his own bitterness at the sight of them, hand in hand, oblivious to the world. He had known that feeling not long ago; now he was nothing but an outsider.

"Here you go, Remus," Arthur entered the kitchen, carrying a small leather bag that emitted clinking sounds when he left it on the kitchen table. "Moody sent a dozen of doses. We think that'll do for the time being."

"It will, Arthur, thank you."

He sighed, giving Remus a long, sad look. "Moody said he'll have more at the ready in case you need them next month."

"I certainly hope so. This," Remus pointed at the leather bag, "gives me an excuse to go away and contact you. Pass on information in case there is any… which is not the case."

Molly opened her mouth and it seemed she was about to say something but she closed it again.

"Nothing new then?" Arthur asked.

"Not yet. I'm just a newcomer. I've barely seen Greyback at all. But there's one thing for sure: they're much more organised than before. Full moons are now planned, people are being tasked to specific locations and they not only bite their victims, most of them small children. They take them away from their families as soon as possible, while still transformed or the instant they turn humans again."

"But that requires an incredible amount of self-control," Arthur said.

"It does. I suspect Fenrir is teaching them. I wish there was a way for me to alert the Order but this time I only learned about this short before the moon rise and I hadn't had a wand with me at the time."

Molly shuddered.

"Can't they… I mean, the other werewolves, refuse to do it?"

"I don't think they even want to." Remus said.

For a long moment the three remained silent, until Arthur rose up.

"I should send Kingsley a Patronus before going to bed. Remus, it's always nice seeing you."

"Thanks for receiving me-"

"You know where we are, whenever you need us."

"Thank you, Arthur."

They shook hands and the older Weasley headed to his studio.

"I should go as well, Molly," Remus said. "I've been dawdling enough as it is."

"Have you spoken to Tonks?" she blurted out and Remus was sure she had been biting her tongue for most of the evening, trying to decide if she should ask or not. Knowing that did not make it any easier for Remus to listen to the question or answer it.

"No, I haven't," he said, trying hard to keep his voice even despite of the heavy weight that seemed to have been dropped on his chest.

"She…" Molly hesitated. "She's not doing very well at the moment. I know I shouldn't be bothering you with this now, with all you're doing and all you're having to cope with, but I think you ought to know."

Remus looked at his hands for a long moment. This was not unexpected. He had left her and sadness and even depression were to be expected.

"She'll be fine," he finally said. "She'll get over it… over me. Just give her some time."

Despite of the reassurance he tried to impose to his voice, he wished he was mistaken. And yet, who was he to ask Tonks to put her life on hold because of him? He had explicitly told her not to do that. But he wanted her to, so much.

"She's quite young," Molly said softly. "I tend to forget that because of what she does but…" she hesitated and Remus met her eyes. They were full with fondness. "Not because she's young does it mean that her feelings are less strong or less complex."

"I never said they were."

"Good," she said, with a much stronger voice, "because you'd be doing her a great disfavour if you were to think that."

Remus did not know what to say. Molly was not entirely off the truth but what did she really knew about his parting with Tonks.

Finally, Remus stood up, taking the leather back and securing it on an inner pocket of his now clean robes.

"I wish I could give you something to eat for you to take."

"I know you do, Molly, but I can't-"

"I know."

"Thanks anyway. You've done so much by letting me stay."

"Nonsense. This is your home, Remus."

_Home_.

He turned the word around inside his head as he Apparated to the swamp and walked the distance to the sewers. He had no home.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot to tt crews, R. Robert, login password, CharmChaser, Blue Luver5000, MuggleCreator, roflshwuakomail, and very special many thanks to sweetsadsilence for one of the nicest reviews ever!**

**Cheers!**


	82. A long, tiresome, depressing day

_August 1996_

It had been a long, tiresome, depressing day. After all his efforts, the last of the bitten children had survived. During a particular, difficult moment, Remus had thought he would lose him; he was surprised at the relief that idea had given him. Still, he had had to try his best, and, as a result, Fenrir Greyback's pack had now a new member.

After making sure that the boy had been settled for the night as comfortable as possible given the circumstances, Remus had returned to his own spot in one of the chamber-like pipes.

He was very tired but he could not fall asleep. His faze was fixed on the flickering flames of the blue clod fire. He wondered how the next full moon would be like for the two boys. Even if he racked his brains, he could not remember much of his own transformations as a child, and those had been always in a secluded shack. A very young, wild werewolf, set loose, was something he could not really picture; he knew though, that in addition to everything else, he would have to keep an eye on them.

He tried to think about something else, to take his mind as far as his current location as possible. To another time, another life, in which he was back at Tonks', curled with her next to the fire, a real golden one, laughing, talking about unimportant things. He could not be sure if it was a real memory, a fantasy or a mixture of both. Only that there, amongst the gloom, he was in desperate need of it.

How much time had passed, Remus could not say. He might have fallen asleep at some point. Now, he was suddenly alert but he could not tell why. Something had changed, something in the atmosphere, in the damp air surrounding him. He looked around. Most of the werewolves were asleep and the blue flames were still dancing in place. And yet…

It was the scent. Her scent.

As if it had come out of his memories to become real in this strangest of places.

But it could not be, could it?

He looked in front of him to the wall dripping moisture and then he tried to focus his gaze on the empty space between it and his position. It was impossible!

The soft weight on his head almost made him jump. He could not see her but he knew he could recognise the touch anywhere. Tonks was there indeed, either that or he had gone insane. She was invisible somehow and she had just posed her hand on his head in a careful way, with a touch that turned into a caress, so familiar that a breath got caught in Remus' throat.

He raised his own hand. Even if he was expecting it, meeting the thin fingers sent shivers through his body. What was she doing there?

He felt the invisible fingers closing around his own and giving him a soft pull. She wanted him to go with her. Could he?

He looked around again. From the few awaken individual, nobody seemed to be paying him the sightless attention. Greyback had gone out with his two lieutenants not long ago. He could meet them on their way back… and if that happened? As long as Tonks remained hidden, he could just said he needed some air, or he was feeling ill or something of the sort. Ezekiel was still wounded and he very much doubted the young werewolf would follow him unless he had given the order first.

It was a risk, a big one, and yet there was that scent, and that warm pressure on his fingers. He needed it, he needed her so much!

Trying to pass it as a casual movement, he stood up. Her fingers left his and some small noises on the floor told him she was walking towards the exit. He followed her, slowly making his way trying not to disturb the bodies and to be as quiet as possible.

It seemed like ages the time it took them to reach the last corridor. Out of thin air, he saw her small hand hovering and he hastened to take it and to hide it down what he now knew was an invisibility cloak. Her small fingers felt callous under his palm, and so very familiar.

She did not stop at the entrance, when the male light of the moon hit them, and Remus was glad. They had met nobody on their way out, and he had been straining his ears to figure out if somebody was following them, but he had met only silence but for his own steps. Still, Tonks probably knew about what she was supposed to do, and kept on walking for a long while, not in the direction of the swamps but into the woods, aiming no doubt for the protection of the trunks.

It was excruciating, though, knowing that she was indeed there, feeling the warmth of her body so near, and just having to keep of walking as casual as possible, not giving up to that strong impulse that was telling him he should kiss her right there and then.

They had reached an empty space, surrounded by trees, and Remus gave one last sweeping glance around. Nothing. Unable to stop himself any longer he stopped, his hand tightening around hers, and groped for the invisibility cloak. In one swift movement, she appeared under it, her eyes wide and her hair a very fiery red. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked thin and tired, but it was her. His Dora.

"You're here," he said, his voice barely audible.

"I-"

Without pausing to think that the last thing he had said to her was to forget him, he gave in to his emotions. His lips met hers with the intensity of all those long, longing nights, while his hands took her body, searching for those familiar places. Less than a second later, she was kissing him back.

It was still dangerous, though. Without stopping the kiss, Remus reached into the inner pocket of Tonks' jacket, where he knew she usually kept her wand. He grabbed it and she did not stop him. Tightening his hold on her, he made them both spin and Disapparate towards a much less gloomy place.

The instant they Apparated on the landing of her apartment, he undid the protective charms, hoping she would not have add any new ones as an extra precaution. Tonks seemed oblivious to his predicament; she was tracing paths down his neck with her lips and it was proving really difficult to concentrate in opening the door when all his body was demanding that he should take her right then, on the dusty landing.

Finally they managed inside her flat and her bedroom and at the sight of so very familiar things he almost forgot why on Earth had he left in the first place. Her hisses drown that thought as well and as her hands fidgeted with his trousers, he felt there was nothing but her.

He took a long look at her, the small smile both tantalising and sweet, her big dark eyes, looking back at him with intensity, the paleness and softness of her skin.

"You're the most beautiful thing in the word."

She did not answer, but kissed him fiercely. When he finally collapsed into her, he felt something explode inside him, some deep, raw emotion he had not known he had been harbouring all along. It had ached, even though he had not been conscious of it, and now, free from its weight, he could finally breathe her and what it meant to have met her again.

Tonks was lying on her stomach now, looking at him in silence. He caressed her back with slow, lazy movements, coaching his fingers to remember every corner of her soft skin; with a deep sigh, she closed her eyes. Something felt different though. Rising up on one elbow, he saw it. There was a large scar crossing Tonks' back, completely healed but visible, an imperfection on that perfect pallid surface.

"What happened?" he had not intended for his voice to be so harsh but he had suddenly felt a pang of fear. It was not only the scar. It was that Tonks usually would not display scars of any kind.

"Splinched," she said in a flat voice.

_Splinched? _She had told him a while ago she had never splinched. Why would she now?

"When?" he asked, as the answer to his mute question flooded him in. He did not need her to explain. Was it possible that he had something to do with it? Was this what Molly had meant when she had told him Tonks was not doing well?

"Does it matter?" she snapped.

"It does to me."

"It doesn't to me."

It was his fault. His being selfish and using her, and wounding her in the process. Unable to look at her, even, knowing the pain he had caused her, he sat up straight, his back on the wall.

"Why haven't you morph it away?" he wanted her to explain, to say something to ease his guilt a little, but he was almost sure of the reason.

Tonks sat up as well, her back rigid, looking at him with fierce eyes, almost as if she was challenging him. "Because. It's not important, Remus!"

"It is," he said, looking at his own bare knees.

For a long moment nobody spoke. Remus knew what he had to do. He had to get up and go, if only for the sake of his mission. But it was not only that. The longer he would stay, the harder it would be for him to go and for her to let him. He had just came in and taken her, as if she was his own; and now, by staying, he was making it much more painful and unfair for her.

"I'm sorr-"

"Don't you ever dare apologising to me, Remus Lupin," she said harshly and he felt heat crawling up his cheeks.

"I've got to go, Tonks," he said, standing up and looking around for his discarded clothes.

"Come again? So I'm just Tonks now?" She had noticed it. Mere minutes ago, he had been calling her by her first name in the only way he would allow him to: between ragged breathing during those impossibly intense moments they shared together.

"That's not what I... listen, we shouldn't have, I shouldn't have-"

"What? What shouldn't we have done?" she snapped. He did not wanted to answer, he did not know how, so he bent over to grab his patched shirt and his trousers.

"You stay where you are," came her voice from behind, with a cold calmness. "You're not going anywhere."

He turned around, trying to suppress a sigh of impatience. He did not need for them to have this discussion _again_ but he would if that was what it took for her to understand.

"Don't you understand I have to go back?" he said, putting on the shirt.

"You don't have to do a thing!" she said, taking one step in his direction. He could not help but notice her bare skin and how warm it still felt, even if he was not touching it. "I understand you _want_ to go back," she continued, "and that's something completely different."

It hurt, more than anything. Had she been right all this time? Was it just his decision? Something he fancied to do? Something he could decide not to do?

"It goes down to the same conclusion," he answered mechanically.

"Maybe. But still-"

He could not allow that sort of thoughts to risk everything he had been working for during the last weeks, nor his plans for the future.

"What do you want from me, Dora?" he yelled. "I can't give you anything! I can't offer you anything! I shouldn't have come here with you, and make you do this!"

"You haven't made me do a thing I didn't want to do in the first place!" she yelled back at him. "I haven't asked you anything! I don't want anything from you!"

_I don't want anything from you._ It hurt more than anything she had ever told him.

"Then?" he asked mechanically, wishing he had never done anything that would make her say that.

"Then", she breathed heavily, her eyes still sparkling, "for Merlin's sake, stay put and I'll make you a decent meal before you go. You're thin as hell and it looks like you're in desperate need of something well cooked and warm."

He stood frozen, he could not look away from her, from that wonderful woman standing in front of him and being willing to be everything he needed her to be, even though unfair and painful.

"Then," she continued, "you can bloody go and do... whatever it is you're doing there."

With that she stomped towards her wardrobe and produced a very large faded t-shirt he knew very well. It had been his and one time, while staying in Grimmauld place, she had borrowed it. He wondered if she had realised it before putting it on.

Not saying another word, she exited the room and Remus heard her walking to the kitchen; the sound of pans and plates being carelessly moved met his ears. He had to shake his head before finishing dressing; he knew better to try and stop her now, especially considering that it was the last thing he wanted to do. She was giving him an excuse to stay longer and there was not a thing he wanted more except, maybe stay for good. But this was not the time for it.

Inside the kitchen the atmosphere was ice-cold and Remus knew it was his fault. He sat at the table, thinking what he could do to make it better; only, he had no idea how to do that, because he knew he had been as right as she had.

And yet, looking at Tonks' back, busy over a frying pan, he knew there was no telling when would he see her again, or even if he would see her again. _No, don't think that. Don't you dare thinking that_. It would be foolish to keep on ruining this moment the way he was. He had no idea of what to say, every sentence he could come up with sounded harsh or accusatory inside his head.

"Is that bacon?" he heard himself asking.

It was the most stupid of questions, and yet, from where he was sitting, he saw her lowering her shoulders, her posture relaxing a little.

"Yeah," she said, her voice quivering slightly. "I've learned how to make a carbonara."

"Really?" he said.

She turned around, her hand on her hip.

"That tone of surprise if absolutely out of place," her voice was stern but her eyes were bright with something Remus hoped was laughter. He almost sighed aloud at the sight. If not a normal conversation, at least he could carry on teasing her.

"Not at all," he replied, "no surprise. I have plenty of confidence in your… erm… culinary abilities…"

"Aha," she said, facing the pan again.

"I do recall a certain attempt to cook macaroni once," he said, almost surprised that he was actually starting to enjoy the conversation.

This time she managed a chuckle.

"I had to throw the pot after that one. There simply wasn't a spell that would remove that mass of solid pasta from the bottom."

"And you didn't want to ask Molly," he said joining in her laughter.

"One has some pride... even if just a little," she wanted to sound dignified, but there was a chuckle again.

"And what about that other time when you and Sirius had a go on Molly's sponge cake recipe?"

Tonks moved about to grab some spaghetti and throw them into a pot with boiling water.

"He actually ate that one, you know."

"In his dog form," Remus pointed out.

"True that," Tonks said, he eyes now fixed on the pasta.

For a long moment nobody spoke; the feeling of it was different, and Remus appreciated it. He actually enjoyed just looking at her, moving around the kitchen, grabbing plates and levitating glasses.

It struck him then. It was the same Tonks, his Dora, but there was something profoundly different about her at the same time. She seemed to be less clumsy, much more purposeful… and abysmally lacking all that colour and festive air he loved so much about her. He did not know how to voice the thought, or even if he should.

As she placed the steaming plate full of paste in front of him he decided he would not. It was not his place anymore.

"I know it's a rather strange menu for a midnight snack," she said.

"… or an early breakfast," he pointed out at the window; the sky had the deep blue tone of the moments before the sunrise.

She smiled. "Anyway, tuck in, it's edible."

Remus did as he was told, surprised that it was not only edible. "It's very good," he said between mouthfuls.

"I'm not entirely useless, you know," eating her own portion with fast, large bites.

"Never said you were," Remus protested, wondering if she was feeding herself properly every day. "So," he continued, "what are you up to these days?"

She looked at him from under her red fringe before answering.

"I've been following suspected Death Eaters up and down the country," she said in a flat voice. "Only, the Ministry has worse aim than your average ninety year-old drunk lady. The people they are sending me to follow seem to have been picked amongst the less likely to join Voldemort."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm pretty sure they're doing it on purpose," she continued. "To get rid of me without actually doing so, and without me noticing it."

"Only you did… notice."

"Yeah," she said, taking another fork full of pasta. "I'll get a new mission soon," she said after a long moment. "Long term."

A cold shiver ran down Remus' spine.

"Long term?" he asked, finding it difficult from keeping on eating.

"I'll be stationed in Hogsmeade," she explained. He sighed in relief.

"For a moment I thought-"

"You thought they'll send me undercover somewhere? Given that I could look like, let's say, Auntie Bellatrix, for instance?"

Remus half expected her to do the morphing in front of his eyes but she did not.

"No, this time I'll go as myself," she said, shrugging.

He had the impression she had wanted to say something else, but she did not and they finished their food in silence.

There was a long moment in which each of them stared at their empty plates.

"Well," Tonks finally said, getting up and taking both to the sink. "Don't let me keep you much longer."

There it was again, the ice-cold atmosphere. Remus stood up slowly and headed towards the entrance. He did not know what to say or how; he was starting to doubt if it would not be better for him just to leave, when he heard her barefoot steps on his back.

He turned around to face him.

"Thanks," he said.

"Bollocks."

"Dora I-"

She approached him, and took a fistful of his shirt.

"Shut the fuck up, Remus. Don't ruin it." And she kissed him fiercely.

A moment later, she had pushed him, and taken a step back she closed the door, leaving him alone in the landing.

* * *

**AN: This chapter matches with chapter 76 in Tonks' Tale.**

**Thank you very much to all of you, especially to the ones who have subscribed or fav'ed this tale. And thanks a lot to gebi, login password, KeepCalmAndMarryAMarauder, DanH2010, roflshvuakomail, Blue Luver5000, Louey06, MuggleCreator, tt crews and R. Robert for such wonderful reviews!**

**Cheers!**


	83. In the big picture

_September 15__th_

Less than a month and another full moon had passed. In the big picture, Remus had to admit it was fortunate no other new werewolves had been brought in this time. That meant, though, that the only victim the werewolves had managed to get to, had died after being bitten.

It also meant that there would not be an opportunity for him to leave the pack under the excuse of fetching more potion to treat the wounds. The new werewolves had remained behind, close to the sewers; Remus suspected Fenrir had casted some spells around in order to avoid them to run lose and maybe try to go home after their transformation. The two kids had started a fight and now nursed many wounds, but none of them was too serious.

Again, Ezekiel had managed to get into a fight with another werewolf and as a consequence had many new wounds in his left leg and torso. Greyback had been so furious by the temporary loss of the pack's tracker that had inflicted him some new ones.

"It's not that I can control it," he said to Remus when he was treating him, using the merchant's wand that Greyback had just consented on giving him back.

"I haven't said a thing," Remus replied calmly.

"But I see it in your expression, just as Fenrir's. He thinks I'm stupid for going after other werewolves instead of humans."

"You know you're a human, do you?" Remus said softly, bending over to pretend to check on one of the wounds so as not to be heard by the werewolves lying around them.

Ezekiel gave him a loud snort.

"And a fairy too, maybe?"

This time it was Remus' turn to laugh.

"That's up to you."

The young werewolf did not answer.

"D'you know when you steal that wand…?" Ezekiel said after a while, once his bleeding wounds looked clean and several days old.

"What about it?"

"Right before you entered the house… how did you open the window?"

"What window?" Remus knew exactly what he was talking about, what he wanted to win some time. Ezekiel question meant that he did not see him vanishing that pane of glass and, therefore, had not told that to Greyback. Was it possible that he had been tasked to find out nonetheless, after all the time passed, in order to tell the werewolf exactly how Remus had managed to steal the wand? Or was it just a curious question?

"The house was closed, that window locked. I know. And you opened it. How?"

Remus shrugged.

"Why do you want to know?"

Ezekiel sighed and Remus looked at him. For a moment, the usual bravado of the young man seemed to have gone.

"Might be a useful skill."

"To open a window?"

"You do it on purpose, do you? When you play stupid?" Ezekiel seemed to have lost his patience. "Listen," he lowered his voice a little. "You know how it is here, it's about surviving but it's also about being useful. You, with that wand and you training are useful that way. You're not going to get kicked out any time soon. Me… I'm good at following people. If you know something that'll make me better, I need to know it."

There it was, what Remus had heard when they had met that first time Ezekiel had followed him. He had wanted to know what had given him away and Remus had suspected that he was much less confident than what he was letting know.

"Magic," he finally said, with a dry chuckle.

"Yeah, right."

"Yeah, right," Remus repeated.

"You didn't have a wand then."

"You don't always need a wand," he replied, getting up to go to the next wounded person. "Think about it."

If the young werewolf had done that or not, Remus could not tell. The days had passed and he had not been close to him again. He had tried to talk to other individuals, trying to gain their trust long enough for them to start listening to some different ideas. It was proving to be much difficult than what he anticipated. The great majority preferred to keep to themselves, silently wandering around the pipes, waiting for the next full moon.

Even amongst the werewolves tasked to get food for the pack, there was no much interaction. They would go together, but they were not organised and it looked much more like a group of individual thieves than anything else.

It was very discouraging to say the least, and the long weeks inside the reeking sewers were starting to take their toll on Remus' spirits. It was almost like being surrounded by dementors. Sometimes, during the evenings, the werewolves would wake up screaming, disturbing the rest and gaining well aimed kicks. Remus could not help but remember Sirius' stories of Azkaban, and wondering how he had managed to survive all those years.

The thought did nothing to raise his mood.

And then, of course, there was Tonks. Or there was not, to be accurate. After having seen her, her presence had became so much real he would wake up almost every night to an aching longing of her laughter, he body, her presence. He wished there was a way to communicate with her, in only to know if she was doing all right in her new mission or if she was settling in fine.

And the idea that one day had assaulted him, while helping carrying bags of potatoes into the pipes, came again, and again, and again. He could go and see her there. He could come up with an excuse for Greyback and just Apparate in Hogsmeade and find out where she was and what she was doing, and maybe even talk to her, and be near her and…

There, he would force his mind to stop. He did not need additional fantasies to accompany his own memories.

The whole idea of seeing her was indeed a fantasy. He had had enough troubles the last time they had been together, when she had come to the sewers to meet him. Greyback had been away the whole time, but Jock had seen him coming back and had wanted to know what had he been doing and when had he left the pipes.

Remus had yelled at him, saying that he was no prisoner and that if he fancied a stroll outside, he would take it whenever he pleased. As a reply, Jock had aimed a kick at his face and Remus had been a second to slow on ducking it. The fight had been terrible, and he had taken the worst part of it, although he was fairly certain that he had managed to inflict some damage of his own.

Fortunately, Greyback had not been especially disturbed by the fight or by his leaving the pack for a while. Still, he did not want to risk it going too far from the sewers, and he was sure now there was always somebody following him. He just needed a good reason and it was a great surprise when it came from Greyback itself. One of the new werewolves' wounds was not healing properly and Remus had already finished the doses of potion he had gotten from Arthur.

Greyback had planned on let the boy die, but after a couple of days he changed his mind.

"You get more of that potion," he barked, thrusting the merchant's wand onto Remus' hand again. "And faster this time."

Almost grinning in relief, Remus had left the sewers. This time he was sure it had been Ezekiel the one tasked to follow him; he could not heard a thing and when he had turned several times, the swamp had looked unperturbed. He was starting to like the young werewolf and was a little sorry his pursue was about to end. Trying to pass it as an extra step, it was with a quick spin that he Disapparated into nothingness.

The suffocating sensation had barely passed when he had done it again, very quickly, and not only a third but a fourth and fifth time as well. Now he was inside a warehouse on the outskirts of a large city. He looked around. He had not felt the pull of somebody side-along Apparating with him, and he felt queasy after all those successive Apparitions. Should he try it a couple of extra times? As far as he knew, Ezekiel did not have a wand, and even if he did, he doubted he would be able to Apparate.

Still, after casting a Disillusionment charm upon himself, he vanished again into the centre of London, and then one more last time, to the house he had been aiming for to begin with.

Moody's house seemed abandoned, but he knew better as to trust that impression. Remus hoped that he would be there and not at the Ministry; he did not fancy trying to break in what was surely one of the most heavily protected buildings in Britain.

After his quick knocks on the door, it opened and Remus almost sighed in relief.

"It is I-" he started.

"I can see you," Moody snapped at him, his magical blue eye swirling on its socket; he opened his door just barely enough for him to come in.

"How've you-?"

"You need that potion, don't you?" he grunted, and for an instant Remus was taken aback about the less than warm welcome.

"As a matter of fact, yes," he said calmly.

"_Accio_ potion!" Moody said, pointing his wand at the ceiling and not taking his eyes off Remus.

A moment later there was a whishing noise and a parcel shot into Moody's outstretched palm, not unlike the one Arthur Weasley had given Remus the last time.

"You got any news?" the Auror asked, handing Remus the leather pouch. The moment it contacted his Disillusioned skin, it seemed to disappear in thin air, only Remus could still feel it.

"Not yet. There haven't been any new werewolves this month. One attack, though, but-"

"We know about that already. Would've been nice to know it beforehand, would it now?"

Finally Remus understood. Just as Tonks, Mad-Eye probably thought his mission was pointless. Only, he had other reasons to be crossed with it… or maybe with him, all of them related to that protégé of his.

"You know how long-term missions work, Mad-Eye," Remus said coldly.

"Yeah, I know about those. And I know about stupid prats as well. G'day to you."

And with that Mad-Eye pushed him unceremoniously out of his house and closed the door. Remus was left to ponder about the similarities of Master and Trainee, and he wondered if pushing people out was something Tonks had learned from Mad-Eye or if it had been the other way around.

Stupid, really, to think about her when he could actually be with her. But should he? For a moment his mind was inside the sewers again, filled with the putrid smell and the groans of his fellow werewolves. Why shouldn't he?

Finally, throwing caution to the wind, Remus spun around on the spot, thinking fondly of a particular alleyway outside Hogsmeade.

He had tried first at the Three Broomsticks, sneaking into the pub still under the Disillusionment charm and taken a look into Madam Rosmerta's guest book. There was no Tonks, nor any other name he could recognise from the Auror Department. His next choice was the Hog's Head and this time he beamed broadly as he saw the _N. Tonks_ hastily scribbled on the book.

His chest expanded at the thought that he was about to see her. How would she feel about it, though? The last time it had been her the one seeking him, but they had not parted in the best of terms. Or had they? Remus was torn about the sight of her closed door and the memory of that last kiss and could not come with an answer.

Now, facing another closed door, this one of her room on the upmost floor of the pub, he hesitated for a moment. He had not time, though, and it would be better for him to make the full of it; even if there was just a very angry Tonks inside seeing her would be much better than not. He knocked on the door softly, not wanting to scare her.

A long moment passed and there was not a sound inside. He knocked again. Nothing. Should he wait inside? It would be safer. Even if he was still indistinguishable from the wallpaper behind him, he did not want to draw attention in case somebody needed to navigate through the corridor he was now standing into.

The door, of course, was not only locked but protected with a series of enchantments. He smiled at the mental image of Tonks casting the spells, focused on no letting anybody in. Just as he had done when he had opened the door to her flat, he hoped she had not added new spells he did not know and had to figure out. Again, there were none, and he finally stepped inside the room.

The sight of the sleeping body on the bed made him startle, he had thought the room had been empty. Had his knocks been too soft for the person on the bed to be awakened by them? He did not recognise the curled up form, covered with blankets; the only part visible was a mane of mousy brown hair. He must have read the wrong number on the Guest Book; this was somebody else's bedroom. And yet, how had he been able to undo all those spells, that were, to some extent, Tonks' own signature?

He looked around. On a chair there were discarded Auror robes, carelessly thrown; there was also a bright orange t-shirt and some brilliant lemon green socks. It all looked like her… all but her.

Trying hard not to make a sound, Remus approached the bed. Almost as if it had heard him, the figure rolled on its back. It was Tonks all right, deep asleep, her eyes shut and her mouth press in a thin line. Remus could not help but smile at the sight, even if she still had those black shadows under her eyes, darker, if possible, than the last time he had seen her. She looked even thinner as well.

For a long moment he just watched her, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber, but after a while he became impatient.

Remus removed the Disillusionment charm and reached for Tonks' shoulder. He gave her a soft shake, she did not move. He tried again, much harder this time, but nothing happened. That was strange, to say the least. Tonks had been always only too quick to wake up when she had to, and being shaken by somebody unknown in her own room surely counted as such a situation. Worry crept down Remus' spine, what was wrong with Tonks? He listened to her even breaths and, for an extra measure, checked her wrist for a pulse.

Desperately searching for something that would give him an answer on what was wrong with her, his eyes rested on her side table. A small bottle, filled with blue liquid, rested on top of it. He took it and uncorked it carefully. This was not the first time he had seen this potion; if it was what he thought it was he had even taken it more than once, during his Hogwarts years after particularly painful transformations. A sleeping potion?

Since when did Tonks take sleeping potions? Who had given it to her?

There was no way to know any of it before she would wake up. For the time being, there was nothing else to be done but wait.

He took the Auror robes and folded them carefully, hanging them from the back of the chair. Then, he placed it next to Tonks' bed and sat down, his eyes still on her. He could have stayed like this and look at her sleep forever, if he was not so impatient to talk to her, to listen to her as well. With a loud sigh, he stretched a hand to her hair and stroked it.


	84. He had seen her twice already

The dialogue lines you recognise are from _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, _p. 340 (Scholastic)

This chapter is dedicated to The Story's Not Over Yet. Thanks.

* * *

_Late May, 1997._

He had seen her twice already.

After all, Hogsmeade was not a large town. The odds were all against him… or were they, in fact, in his favour? He could not tell.

Both times she had been walking down the street, and he had been quick enough in hiding himself and she had failed to spot him. Remus almost took it as a sign. She was not ready; he was not ready to meet her again after all that had happened the last few months. Now, after those two occasions, he had consciously avoided the places where he knew he could bump into her.

He would have to meet Tonks again, eventually, at an order meeting if nothing else, but they had been reduced to a minimum lately and all he had gotten since his leaving the pack and settling into his new life had been a couple of notes from Dumbledore, delivered by owl to the Shrieking Shack, where he was currently staying.

What an odd situation, having to live in that particular place after all he had been thought. It was both so familiar and so strange at the same time. And, the fact that it was only few blocks away from the Hog's Head, from Tonks, did nothing to improve the strange feeling he had. He should not be there at all, and yet… Dumbledore had asked him to stay close and that had been the only place he had thought of.

It seemed that, from the start, he had wanted to avoid her.

One of the last times he had been at the Hog's Head had not been the last time he had seen her, but it had certainly been the last time he had enjoyed seeing her. Even if she had looked so thing and fragile in her sleep, with that strange mane of mousy brown hair and those deep circles under her eyes, Remus has stayed awake almost the entire night, just looking at her, matching his own breathing to hers, caressing her skin from time to time, wishing she would wake up from the effects of the sleeping potion.

When she had finally opened her eyes, at dawn, it had been too late. He needed to go back to the pack before Greyback would suspect something strange was going on. She had been furious, of course, but, at first only with herself, and with the fact she had taken a sleeping potion and had not woken up to be with him. Then, her anger had turned towards him. It had been painful all right; and humiliating.

It turned out she knew more about what Greyback was planning than he; she had spied on them and had found out not only the names of the targets for the next full moon, but, even more crushing, she had confirmed the thought that had started to grow at the back of Remus' own head: that this whole mission was pointless. He was no closer to gaining Greyback's trust than on his first day with the pack.

He had been barely two months with the pack, though, Remus had thought back then. Maybe he was just about to get there. It had to be only a matter of time.

The truth was that Tonks had been right, on all accounts.

The fact that she knew it, and that she was both stubborn and brave to the point of recklessness, had not helped at all.

Right after the full moon of November, Remus had found himself summoned by Greyback. He still had some potions left, to cure the wounded members of the pack, however he was confident he could persuade him to try and get some more. He had nothing new to report, but the addition of three new members to the pack: two newly bitten individuals and one stray werewolf. Yet, he felt the urge to go and talk to somebody… somebody _normal_ for once, even if it was just to get Moody to growl at him again.

"_How long had it been, Jock, since you last had a woman?" Greyback was asking to one of his lieutenants the moment Remus walked into the chamber._

"_Dunno. A couple of weeks, perhaps?"_

_Greyback gave a small sound of admiration._

"_One of the pack?"_

"_Nah," Jock gave a gesture of discomfort. "A Muggle girl."_

_Both werewolves laughed throatily and Remus was sure he did not want to know about the private joke they seemed to be sharing._

"_And you Remus?" Greyback suddenly turned around to face him._

"_What about me?"_

_The werewolf looked at him sharply._

"_You know… women."_

"_Maybe he doesn't like them women," Jock said with a sneer._

"_I do, as a matter of fact," Remus said calmly._

"_And when was the last time you had one?" Greyback asked, his mouth twisted in a horrible smile._

"_I can't remember," Remus said, trying to keep Tonks' body off his thoughts, and his expression as blank a possible._

_Greyback paced the room for a moment and Remus wondered if he should ask for the potions or just wait for him to say something._

"_I almost had a woman yesterday," the werewolf finally spoke._

"_You did?" Jock asked, smiling._

You couldn't,_ Remus thought. It had been last night the day before, and Remus had stayed with the group that had gone with Greyback almost the whole time. When had he had time to-_

"_It was practically a girl. So young and yet so… feisty."_

_Jock laughed softly._

"_The best sort."_

"_Yeah," Greyback spoke. "The thing is, she was not new. I wondered then… and I wonder now… where had I seen that girl before?"_

"_Was it at the village?" Jock asked. Remus wondered why was he listening to all this and started to think about possible outcomes. Was it possible that he was finally winning over the werewolves trust? Were they actually sharing a bit with him?_

"_I hadn't seen her at the village, no," Greyback said. "You see," he addressed Remus now, "there was my mistake. I thought I'd _seen _her when in fact," he walked towards him until he was so close, Remus could smell liquor and meat on his breath, "I'd actually smell her."_

"_Have you?" Jock asked at his back. _

_Greyback nodded, not taking his eyes off Remus. _

"_Yeah," he said slowly. "I'd smell her… here," he said, pointing a long, filthy fingernail on Remus' chest._

_Jock laughed in a way that made Remus sure this was no news for him. It all had been previously rehearsed._

"_You have a lady friend, Remus, don't you?"_

"_I have nobody," he answered, trying to keep the fear and fury off his voice._

"_But I'm sure," Greyback spoke slowly, "she's been around. She's lingered long enough for you to carry her smell. I can't tell now, but I was sure yesterday, when that little bitch tried to fight me."_

_The blood on Remus' veins froze. How was it possible? Had Tonks being tasked to the area? He had talked to Dumbledore, he had asked him to keep her well away from the swamp and he was sure the headmaster had told him Mad-Eye and Kingsley as well! But if it had not been her, who was Greyback talking about?_

"_What you say, Remus? No women, eh? No lady friend?"_

"_No," he managed to mutter through greeted teeth._

"_And what about that girl… yes, I remember. Last time I saw you, you attacked me. Because I wanted to have a go at that witch."_

_Of course Greyback would not have forgotten that time. It had been so long ago, when he and Tonks had been tasked to somewhere nearby and had run into Greyback himself. There had been no doubt on Remus' mind back then, when he had stunned the werewolf in order to free Tonks from his grip._

"_It is the same woman, I'm sure."_

_Remus forced himself to shrug._

"_Haven't seen her since," he said, looking at Greyback in the eye._

"_Then," he said, finally stepping back and grabbing a bottle on the table, "if that was not your woman, I'll take her. Next time she shows up, I'll taste some of that sweet, young skin. Let's see if she's as hot as she seems to be."_

_Remus realised his hands were in fists and he forced himself to a more relax position, while questions flooded his mind. He had told her not to go back the last time he had seen her! Both had been yelling at the time, but he was sure she had heard him. And yet, if Greyback was talking about her, that meant she had actually gone back to the pack. She had tried to check on him again. Right on the full moon, to a place she knew was full of transformed werewolves._

_It was his fault. And hers, of course, but mostly his._

_Greyback's voice took him off this train of thought at once._

"_You'll go fetch the potions you need."_

_Remus almost sighed aloud, but the werewolf was not finished. "You won't go today. You'll go tomorrow. And you'll have only two hours."_

_He had no idea what to say, so he left. The wait was one of the longest of his life. Twice he seriously considered to just go and warn Tonks. What if Greyback already knew where she was and was using that time to go and attack her directly at Hogsmeade? And yet, if he had indeed seen her the day before, it meant that she had managed not to get attacked by him._

_Had she actually fought Fenrir Greyback during a full moon?_

_Admiration, fear and exasperation seemed to fight their way into Remus' mind. _

_He did not need to fear about him going though. During that very long day, while attending to the wounded, Remus kept an eye on the chamber and corridors inside the sewers. Greyback did not leave the area._

The next time he saw Tonks, it was worse than a nightmare. He had had to force himself not to run towards her and hug her because she was all right. He could not do it, though. His being gentle towards her had caused her to go back to the sewers and he had to convince her not to do that again.

He had been cruel, harsh, cold beyond description, and the hurt look in her eyes chased him in his dreams for weeks.

Forcing the words out of his mouth, Remus had told her it was over between them; he had sworn he would not go back to see her again and he had ordered her to do the same. He had not even stayed to hear what she wanted to say; Remus did not need to make it even more difficult for both of them.

It was because of Harry that he could not keep his promise.

During Christmas had managed to escape for a while again and he was more than happy to accept Molly's invitation to stay longer, after his collecting of more potions, especially after she assured him, with a voice loaded with reproach, that Tonks would not come over.

It would have been a lie to say he had forgotten about her, but at least he had been almost calm, surrounded by people and being able to eat real food, as much as he wanted, for a change. Then, Harry had talked about her and he, Remus, had almost dropped his plate full of turkey.

"_Tonks' Patronus has changed form. Snape said so anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"_

_Remus took a very long time to answer them. Did Harry know about him and Tonks? Or was it just a casual question? He, after all, had been the one who had taught Harry about Patronuses, it was reasonable for Harry to ask him. _

_The fact remained, though, that Tonks' Patronus had changed. And he knew the reasons for that all right._

"_Sometimes… a great shock… an emotional upheaval…" Or… love. Was it possible that Snape was right and her Patronus had actually changed its shape? Had he, Remus, something to do with it? He thought about the small chameleon that used to be her signature and wondered what it looked liked now. Maybe Snape had made a mistake._

"_It looked big, and it had four legs," Harry thought, as if he had read his mind. _

_The thought that that description fit perfectly with that of a wolf formed into Remus' mind, to be instantly drowned at the arrival of the Ministry and Percy Weasley. He could not shake off the feeling though, and even though he had promised he would not go back, few hours later he was knocking on Tonks' door at the Hog's Head._

_If her Patronus had indeed changed, he needed to see it for himself. He needed to shake off the feeling that this, too, was his fault. Because if it was… was it possible… could it be that Tonks had been telling the truth all this time? Did she love him to that extent? Did she actually love him the way Lily had loved James, when her eagle Patronus had changed to become a doe, to match his stag?_

_Whatever he was expecting, meeting Tonks this dishevelled, a bottle of Firewhiskey in her hand and looking daggers at him was not it. Saying that she had been less than pleased to see him again would be the understatement of the century._

"_For Merlin's sake, go away!" she said as a greeting, and to Remus it felt as physical pain. He disserved no less, of course._

_It took him a lot of convincing until she finally raised her wand and pointed it at the room. After all her reluctance, he should know what was about to come. She did not want him to see it, whatever would emerge from the wand, and he wished it would be something entirely different than what he had imagined._

"Expecto Patronum!_"_

_It was a wolf. A beautiful, large, wolf, running around Tonks' room, and then down the corridor. At the end, the Patronus turned to look at them and Remus recognised his own eyes in the wolf large, sad ones. After that, it disappeared._

"_I see," was the only thing he could mutter. A heavy weight had logged on his throat. For a second, he had the impulse to hug her, to swear he would not go back to the pack, but stay with her instead. To tell her that he was sorry he had caused so much damage in her, but that he was ready to do the impossible to fix it. _

"_Yeah, you see," she said, closing the door._

_He stared at the uneven wooden surface for a long time, trying to sum up the courage and knock again. He did not._

He could not remember much of the time with the pack after that. He was just acting mechanically, without the sense of purpose he had had during the first months. Greyback's attitude towards him did not change. Some of the werewolves sometimes listened to him, only to dismiss him in the middle of an idea with harsh laughter or resentful comments.

The months had passed, measured only by the blows of the full moon. How long he could have lasted living like that, he could not tell. Would he, eventually, get used to the depression of the place, to the reek of it all, to the unfriendliness?

* * *

**AN: Tonks' Tale CH 79**


	85. Greyback had sent Jock to fetch him

One day, a week after April's full moon, Greyback had sent Jock to fetch him. For a moment Remus had feared that they wanted to talk about Tonks again. Had she come near the pack again? Had Greyback seem her somewhere? He had to remember that, after their last two encounters, it would be close to impossible for her to be interested in seeing him at all.

He had tried to convince himself that he had finally succeeded, that she was safe, but as he had walked down the damp corridors, all those thoughts had felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"_It's very simple, Remus," Greyback said, looking strangely calm and purposeful. "I need you to make a special potion for me."_

_Remus just raised his eyebrows, trying to disguise his curiosity into mild interest. After all the different healing potions he had managed to borrow from the order, what else would they need now?_

"_Wolfsbane."_

_He closed his eyes and sighed. How had he not anticipated this? It was just obvious! So easy for the werewolves it was actually a miracle Greyback had not asked for it before. Maybe he had not known it existed, maybe he had just figured it out what drinking the potion would imply for them._

"_I don't know how to brew it," Remus prompted, realising a second too late that this statement implied that he actually knew about the potion._

"_Then get it."_

_Remus looked at him._

"_I won't be able to buy that. It's much more expensive than the healing potions I usually bring. Because of that it'll be probably protected-"_

"_I don't care!" Greyback roared, banging his fist on a table nearby. "I've just told you to get it!"_

_From across the room, casually leaning against the wall, Jock spoke softly. "He doesn't want to get it."_

_Greyback looked at him for a long moment and then back at Remus._

"_You realise what that potion means to us. It's what we need not to lose control, it'll keep us focused. It'll make things easier."_

_Remus did not know what to answer. _

"_He doesn't want to," Jock repeated after a while._

"_Then make him want to!" Greyback yelled. _

_With two long strides, Jock had gotten closer, his fist raised._

"_Am I right?" he asked, but before Remus could ask, he had hit him in the jaw so hard he staggered back until his back touched the cold stone wall._

"_Are you bringing the potion?" Greyback said._

_Remus knew he could try to work his way around this, but suddenly he realised he did not wanted to. Giving the pack Werewolf potion was unthinkable. This mission of his had not only gotten him nothing. It could turn to be much a larger failure than what he, or the Order, could have anticipated, if he would do what they were asking from him. There was only a possible answer. _

"_No."_

_Jock gave him another blow, but this time he managed to block it and direct one at him. With a well aimed kick on his knee, Jock threw him on the floor and tried to hit him on the head again. Remus ducked the blow and hit his attacker hard on the nose. _

_It was as if Jock could feel no pain. Hardly registering the blood, he aimed his fists at Remus chest once and again, and again, emptying his lungs of air. Finally, Jock fixed Remus' elbows to the floor with his own knees and looked down at him, smiling. With the sleeve of his hem he cleaned some of the blood in his face._

"_All this time," Greyback spoke from behind him, "you living here with us, why?"_

_Remus was panting. He did not know what else to say, nor was he sure if he would be able to speak aloud. Vaguely, he wondered if the two werewolves would hit him to death or if, by some miracle, he would be spared._

"_You, Remus, were spying on us. You came here and stayed with us, because you wanted to know what we're up to, right? Right?!"_

_Jock gave him another punch on the face. Next to the pain, Remus felt anger boiling under his skin. What did it matter now if he would lose control? His story was ruined, Greyback was seeing to it, and he would not fetch the potions, so what good was there to keep pretending?_

_It was as if something inside him exploded. He felt the heat felling him from the inside, and Jock felt it, too, for a second later he had jumped back with a loud yell of pain, freeing Remus from his grip. Taking his chance, he stood up with a jump._

"_What's the matter with you?!" Greyback roared again. He grabbed Jock's shirt and pulled him back, taking his place in front of Remus._

"_You're a filthy spy! An embarrassment to us werewolves! A wizard lover!" He grabbed Remus' neck, but he shook him off, and aimed a blow at him. Greyback blocked it, and gave him another punch. _

_It was impossible to fight his way out of this, Remus was sure, not against this two werewolves, that would probably summon more members of the pack in no time. He just needed to go. He needed more of what had made Jock jump back; he needed to feel that anger again. For once in his life, he needed to lose control._

"_You're life would be always a failure! You'll never have a place with us," Greyback said, now trying to strangle him, while ducking Remus' own blows. "And you'll never have a place with them!"_

_Remus felt it again, the heat starting inside him. With a loud roar he focused hard on his next punch and barely noticed his knuckles hitting Greyback's face. The werewolf flew back and landed over Jock. _

_There was no reason to linger. _

_Without a glance back, Remus was running down the large sewer, not caring about the splashing sound of his steps, only hoping that Greyback would not order the entire pack to go after him. He had to keep running, just in case. He distinguished a couple of members of the pack, looking at him passing with wide eyes. None of them tried to stop him. _

_Finally, he saw the bright light of the end of the tunnel, right when he started hearing steps at his back. He had to hurry; he had to get to his wand even though he was not sure that, after all this time, it would still be there where he had hidden it so many months ago. He just had to hope for the best._

_With a large leap, he jumped out of the sewers into the soft, humid ground of the exterior, without stopping to see if they kept on following him, without wanting to stay close to that place for a second longer._

_He kept on running, ducking the trees and jumping over the fallen branches. After the fight he was feeling out of breath, but he had to continue going. There was no other way now._

_The stitch on his chest was throbbing painfully when he finally reached the tree. He had to focus now, he had to summon the wand without carrying one himself, and in order to do that he needed to calm down. Remus looked around, the place seemed to be deserted. Greyback had not come after him._

_He took several deep breaths, focusing on the ledge-like branches where he remembered he had left his wand, wishing he had not mistaken the tree, wishing no bird had taken it. For a moment, nothing happened. Then he heard something moving up there, and then just silence. Maybe he needed to climb up and fetch it. Only, after all that had just happened, he knew he would not be able._

"_So, you're leaving."_

_Remus' heart skipped a few bits as he turned around. Ezekiel was standing a few metres in front of him. He seemed to be out of breath too._

"_Did Greyback ask you to follow me?"_

"_In case you haven't noticed, Greyback never asks," Ezekiel said with a sneer. "He bosses around."_

"_True that," he wondered if he could fight this young man as well. Maybe if he could conjure up something other than heat he could keep him away long enough to try and retrieve his wand…_

"_But no. I came on my own."_

"_Why?" Remus asked, genuinely puzzled._

"_You fought them. Greyback and Jock. Why?"_

_Remus thought for a long moment. Was this a tramp? Impatient, Ezekiel changed his posture, but he did not approach him._

"_I don't want to be bossed around anymore," Remus finally said._

"_Neither do I."_

"_Then leave."_

"_Where?"_

_Remus sighed. He could not take Ezekiel with him. He had no idea if he could trust him. And yet, he could be a good asset for the Order, he was a fine tracker. And even if he was not, he deserved the right to leave the pack. Had his mission not been about precisely this all along?_

"_I know a man, he could introduce you to another one. They might be able to help you out."_

"_You don't want me to leave with you," Ezekiel said. "You don't trust me," he smiled bitterly, "why should you?"_

"_No," Remus smiled as well, "I don't have reasons to trust you."_

"_You do well, then," there was a hint of the bravado Remus was so used to see on the young werewolf but there was something else in his expression, something that resembled hope._

"_Do you know Hogwarts?" Remus asked._

"'_Course. I went to Hogwarts," Ezekiel snorted, and yet Remus was sure there was a hint of pride in his voice._

_It was a surprise. Remus wanted to ask him for how long, and why did he left. He did not remember having him as a student and he was still young enough for that. There was not time, though. He needed to go before Greyback would actually send somebody._

"_Go see Hagrid. Do you know him?"_

"_Everybody does."_

"_All right. Go see him. Tell him I sent you."_

_Ezekiel looked doubtful for a moment._

"_What… what if he doesn't want to-?"_

"_He will, don't worry."_

"_Why did you stop here?"_

_The change of subject was unexpected, but Remus had no time to dwell on that. Suddenly, he remembered one of the few conversations he had had with Ezekiel._

"_Don't make a sound and I'll show you something."_

_All of a sudden, it was easy. Almost as if his own self control and his wand were ready for him to show off, he focused on it and it floated from the branches into his outstretched hand; other than a thick layer of dust, it was as good as new._

"_You were right," Ezekiel said in ill-disguised awe. "There's a way without a wand."_

"_There is. But you should to have a wand, too."_

_The young tracker shrugged._

"_I'll see you around," Remus said, and before Ezekiel would ask something else, he spun around and Disapparated._

If Dumbledore had been surprised of seeing him back, he had not said a thing. Remus suspected, though, that the headmaster had been expecting him for a while now. About the mission there was very little to talk; he agreed though, that Remus' actions had been the only possible curse, given the circumstances.

His wounds had been tended by Madam Pomfrey at the Shrieking Shack. She had protested that he would have been much comfortable in the castle, in one of the beds of the Hospital Wing, but he knew that somebody could walk in and see him. Except the youngest, most of Hogwarts' students had taken classes with him; he did not need the attention.

The first time he exited the Shack, he had been very aware of how strange it was to actually walk down the streets of Hogsmeade like any other human been. It felt odd to be served a Butterbeer by Rosmerta, and more so to be able to chat with her amicably. Remus was just starting to enjoy it when he saw her outside the window of the three Broomsticks and his heart seemed to stop.

Tonks was walking swiftly and even from the distance, Remus could see her tense posture. She looked thinner, too, but that could be just his impression.

He had not forgotten she was stationed in Hogsmeade. Then, why was he so surprised to see her? Why was he so nervous? So nervous, in fact, that his hand trembled a little when he grabbed the almost empty glass and drained it.

Without thinking, he left some money on the counter and headed for the back door, hoping that Rosmerta would not stop him. Only when he Apparated back in front of the Shrieking Shack, he dared to take a deep breath.

Why had he avoided her, was something he refused to even considered.

Some days passed until he saw her again, going into the Post Office. This time he actually managed a couple of steps in her direction, his heart beating wildly all the time. What was he going to tell her once he reached her? "I'm back"? "I just wanted to say hello"?

Before he could think of something, somebody else entered the Office. Another Auror whose name he did not remember. It was like waking up from a very strange dream, and before actually noticing it, he was hurrying towards and alley and Disapparating again.

This time he did think about it. Over and over in his head he ran through his own stupidity, his own cowardice. Why had he not talked to her? Why was he afraid?

Time happened too quickly and, before he could come to an answer, he had been summoned to the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix since he had left Greyback's pack. This time he did not hesitate. It would be foolish not to go, only because he wanted to avoid meeting with Tonks, and that opportunity was as good as any other.

He arrived late, and he did not want to dwell on the fact that he had been dawdling, nor on the reasons for his doing so.

The Weasley's sitting room was packed by the time he arrived, with what was left of this new Order of the Phoenix. And, in the midst, even with that strange mousy brown mane, Tonks figure seemed to shine above the rest. She was whispering something into Mad-Eye's ear and Remus wondered if the old Auror had told her he was no longer living with the pack.

A moment later, the flames on the crate shone green and Snape appeared, followed by Dumbledore. Tonks sat up straight and Remus leaned against the doorframe. He felt somewhat weak on the knees but this was definitely not the time for that.

"Good evening to you all," Dumbledore spoke. "There are a few matters I wanted to discuss with you in person. I know this is not a regular procedure, so I must apologise for having interrupted you already tight schedules, and for having summoned you from so different parts of the country but-" his vivid blue eyes had been sweeping the room and now they finally met Remus'. With a small gesture, he invited him to come into the sitting room.

Remus took a few paces, automatically. Somebody else was looking at him, with large, dark eyes, and he could not, for the life of his, make out what sort of stare that was. It lasted less than a second; she turned again and he fixed his eyes on her back, making an effort to listen to what Dumbledore was saying.

"It had come to my knowledge that there might be a serious attempt to entering the school and that it will most certainly take place while I'm away so I'm asking you to be ready for any sudden summoning to the school. I'm addressing to all of you, but I'm referring especially to those who are stationed nearby, Nymphadora and Remus."

Of course he had to say it.

Not only would she now know that he was not with the pack anymore. She now knew that he had been close to her for a while now.

Later, he would not be able to remember exactly what had been said afterwards. The only important thing was that he needed to be on the ready, and he very much feared not only because of Dumbledore's possible summoning.

When the meeting finally ended, Tonks stood up at once, and pausing only to say good-bye to Moody, she practically run outside the house. Somewhat, Remus had trouble to believe it was only because she was in a hurry.

The next day Remus half expected her to burst into the Shrieking Shack at any moment. She was a smart woman; it would not take her much to figure out the very few places where he might be living, and to rule them out, one by one, until she reached the shack.

That, of course, assuming that she wanted to meet him, but would she?

He had tried to replay in his mind that look she had given him at the Weasley's sitting room, trying to make something out of those dark eyes, but he could not come up with a useful thing. Was she angry? Sad? Disappointed? Indifferent?

He could deal with all of that, he tried to convinced himself, but on the rare moments he allowed himself to be honest, he had to admit that indifference was the one that hurt the most. And yet, she had practically run away after the meeting, not even pausing to look at him again.

The meaning was clear.

And it hurt more that what he would have anticipated.

A week had passed, and every day it coasted him a greater effort not go to bang her door at the Hog's Head. He repeated to himself that he should be satisfied, that he had finally accomplished it and she did not want to see him anymore. The thought did nothing to ease his agitation, and the waiting for Dumbledore's call certainly was not helping.

When he finally heard the loud knocks on his door, he actually sighed in relief. No matter what it was, it would certainly take him off his own circular, gloomy thoughts.

Slowly, he approached the landing of the stairs, his wand at the ready, even though he very much suspected he would not need to use it.

The door opened, slowly, and Remus held his breath. It was Tonks all right. He could distinguish her silhouette on the floor, her thin frame covered with a cloak.

"Hello?" she called.

"It's you," he sighed, both relieved and anxious.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "it's me. It's always me."

Remus started climbing down the stairs, slowly, while the words sunk in. Somewhat, since the moment they had met, it had indeed been her, all the time, the one with the answers, the only thing that seemed to make any sense in his life. Now that she was there, he realised there was nothing to be afraid. He was in front of her and that ought to be enough.

"I kept wondering if I was to bump into you sooner or later."

"Sure," she prompted, her voice heavy with sarcasm, "'cause calling on me would be far too blunt now, wouldn't it?"

He tried to smile apologetically. "Maybe... maybe I was just afraid you'd close your door on me."

Remus realised at once it was the wrong thing to say, and yet it was the truth.

"You've got some nerve, Remus Lupin," she said through greeted teeth.

He did not know what else to do, so he just looked at her, trying to find in her eyes some clue, any sort of clue about what would happen next.

She just sighed, and taking her eyes off him, looking at the shadowy hall instead, she finally spoke again. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," he said. He could not look at her either, "as you've probably guessed."

"Cosy. Definitely beats the Hog's Head. Not to mention all the happy memories this place surely brings you. Not surprised you'd rather be here than anywhere else in Hogsmeade."

Of all people, she certainly knew how to make his every decision look ridiculous.

"Listen, Tonks," he started, not knowing exactly what he should say next. "It's just…" he trailed off.

"Just?" she arched an eyebrow and he was amazed of how much he had missed that gesture.

"I guess it was precisely this what I was dreading, what I was trying to avoid."

"Oh. And what is _this_ exactly?" her voice started to rose, and he saw her hands curling into fists. "Seeing me? Talking to me? Being finally confronted with your own stupidity?"

Remus wished he had not said a thing. He disserved it, every word of it, but knowing that did not make it any easier.

"Your mission was a failure!" she yelled, taking a step forward. "Your going away, pointless! What did you got in the end? Nothing! Nothing but self-recriminations and guilt and loneliness. You're just-"

Whatever she was about to say, Remus never found out. A silver light crossed the room and a large phoenix formed in the small space between him and Tonks.

"I must ask you to come here at once," it spoke, with Dumbledore's voice, before dissolving into thin air.

Tonks' seemed to have lost all capacity of speech. All of a sudden, she looked small and fragile under the dim lights of the hall, and he felt an urge to protect her, to see that nothing could ever harm her. Her eyes were fixed on his again, and this time he did not feel like a stranger anymore looking at them.

Without a word, he held the door open for her, while grabbing his cloak, and together, they Apparated at the front gates of the castle.

* * *

**AN: If you're still there, you've been incredibly patient! Thank you for all your support!**


	86. With nothing to report

**Harry Potter and all places and characters related belong to J. K. Rowling.**

**The dialogue lines you recognised are from "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince", chapter 29.**

* * *

He had crossed Minerva McGonagall's path three or four times already, with nothing to report, not even a student sneaking to grab something from the kitchens. Remus remembered vaguely his patrolling the school when doing prefect duties, so many years ago. Back then it had been mostly about that, people sneaking out their dormitories for some reason or another. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe just the fresh memories of his recent talk with Tonks, but the seriousness of the situation was failing to sink in.

What could possibly happen to such a well-protected place?

The answer came in the form of hurried steps, running along the next corridor. Remus drew out his wand and pointed it at the moving figures.

It was Ron, followed by Ginny and Neville Longbottom, flustered and looking around. Their own wands at the ready.

"-have to wake her up, there's no choice," Ginny was panting.

"Ron? Ginny?" Remus called. The three kids stopped, almost colliding with one another.

"Remus," Ginny cried.

"There're people in the castle," Ron said, pointing at the direction from which they had come from. Without a second thought, Remus broke into a run. At his back, he heard McGonagall's voice and Ron's cry. "Death Eaters!"

"It's all dark in there," Neville panted, running behind him. Remus wanted to tell him to go and hind, to stay safe, but he could not. The kid had certainly grown up a lot since he had last been his teacher. His voice now sounded exactly like his father's.

"This way!" Ron yelled. With long strides he had catch up with them and was now heading into another corridor.

A horrifying thought formed in Remus' mind. _Where was Tonks? What part of the castle had she been assigned to patrol?_

They intruders were not quiet; it was not difficult to find them: several large, hooded figures, heading towards the upper floors. However, their own steps had been loud enough too, and before Remus could assess how many people there were, he had to cast a Shield Charm, to deflect a jet of purple light issuing from one of the Death Eater's wands.

Quickly, he casted a Stunning Spell of his own, but it missed his target. At his side stood Minerva, firing spells in rapid succession, and Ron, Ginny and Neville, fighting as hard as they could, but there was no sign of Tonks. They had succeeded in stopping the Death Eaters, at least for a while. They had been brought to a halt and were now forced to defend themselves.

Trying hard to protect the young people around Remus was aiming his own curses ant three figures at a once.

Finally he heard a cry that had both relieved and sacred him.

"_Protego!_" Tonks arrived, already fighting.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Ginny, fighting a large Death Eater and almost miraculously ducking the courses sent in her direction; Tonks took over almost at once, but Ginny did not go away.

A shower of rocks took them by surprise. The largest hooded figure had casted something that had blown up one of the walls and now, in the commotion, all of the intruders had resumed his running.

Without missing a heartbeat, Remus ran towards them. At his side he saw Bill and Tonks doing the same. He wanted to tell her something, to urge her to be careful but the only thing he could manage was looking into her eyes for the briefest of moments. He had almost forgotten how purposeful she could look, her lips pressed together, her eyes blazing with fury.

Remus aimed his wand at one of the figures and casted another spell that bounced off a Shield Charm. It made one of the Death Eaters casting it stumble, and his hood fell off. Even at the distance Remus recognised Fenrir Greyback, who turned around and the fight started again.

He could not be sure who was fighting whom; the kids had caught up with them and were firing well aimed curses of their own. There was a Death Eater firing curses all over, apparently not caring if he was hurting friends or foes. Remus blocked something large with all his might and had to take a couple of steps back because of the force of it. His back collided with something soft and he glanced back. It was Tonks, firing red jets of light at the attackers. For the briefest of moments, she smirked at him, and now they were back to back, fighting three Death Eaters at a time.

One of them had freed from the fight and headed towards the Astronomy Tower, climbing the stairs two at a time. Another one followed, but when Remus tried to follow him, he found himself bouncing off and landing painfully on the stone floor, as if he had hit a very solid barrier.

All the attackers had climbed up the stairs and there was a strange silence. Ron tried to go after them as well, but he could not.

"They've blocked the stairs," he cried, "— _Reducto_! _REDUCTO_!"

A moment later, Severus Snape came, running pass them towards the tower. Remus was about to call a warning, but it was not necessary; Snape crossed the invisible barrier as if it had not been there.

"How on earth…?" Minerva said, trying to pass as well and stopping, unable to climb up. She pointed her wand at the foot of the stairs. A jet of blue light emerged from it and bounced against the barrier. Tonks casted another Reductor Curse, to no avail.

A moment later, Snape came back with somebody following close. Remus got a glimpse of blond hair, but he was distracted by the rest of the Death Eaters who were following them. Minerva and Tonks both fired jets of red light at them, and a shower of spells almost hit them, the fray seemed to have started again.

"It's over, time to go!" somebody cried hoarsely.

One Death Eater had sent a jet of light towards the ceiling and a shower of rocks and dust were making it almost impossible to distinguish who was who.

"They're going," somebody cried. "They're running away!"

Remus stood for a second, wondering if he should follow them and try to capture at least one.

"Remus!" Tonks pulled him rather harshly from the sleeve; he turned around to see her sprinting towards a lying figure. It was Bill Weasley. He was so wounded and covered in blood it was almost unrecognisable.

"How…?" as he formed the question, he already knew the answer.

Tonks did not say a thing, but bent over Bill. She took his wrist, looking for a pulse, and then she sighed deeply.

"We have to move him," she said.

"Hospital wing?" he suggested.

"Yes."

He had recognised the wounds, of course. He had seen too many of them during the past few months spent with the pack, he had even treated most of them.

"It's not a full moon," she muttered through clenched teeth, pointing her wand at Bill. "_Locomotor_!"

The body rose into the air, flat and even.

"No, it isn't, it was-"

"Last week," she said, pointing her wand forward and making Bill's body hover swiftly on the direction of the Hospital wing. She followed it quickly and Remus had had to take a couple of long strides to catch up with them.

After the loud shouts of the fight and the collapsing of the ceiling, the silence now was ringing on Remus' ears. He had looked back to see Minerva checking on a second body and making it levitate just as Tonks had done with Bill's.

"Will he be…?" Tonks finally said, two flights of stairs later. "… Greyback was human when…."

Remus could see her struggling to phrase the very question he had in his mind.

"I don't know."

She did not said a thing afterwards, not to him anyway.

Suddenly, the hospital wing was packed. The person Minerva was carrying was Neville Longbottom. The other kids had several minor wounds and concussions, but none of them was seriously injured. It was Bill who was getting all of Poppy Pomfrey's attention.

"It was a werewolf," Tonks explained, her voice even, "but he was not transformed."

The matron glanced at Remus, and he had shrugged slightly, understanding the mute question and, again, failing to give a proper answer. A second after, she was casting spells on the open wounds, muttering under her breath, a crease on her forehead. Ginny asked about his recovery and she answered something reassuring; Remus did not know if she believed it or if she had just wanted to calm Ginny down. It seemed to have succeeded, for a second later she said she was going to look for Harry.

Tonks had taken a couple of steps back and was now at Remus' side. He looked at her, but her eyes were fixed on Bill. Had she been thinking it could have been her? Maybe, Remus thought, this was the first time she had actually seen fresh werewolf bites on another being.

And yet, despite of the scene in front of his eyes, the only thing Remus could feel was an overwhelming relief. All of them were alive and, at his side, Tonks was all right.

Silence felt again. Remus wanted to know what would happen to Bill, but another idea was forming in his mind. Just hours ago, he and Tonks had been alone, together, even if briefly, for the first time after months. The words he had not found then were now coming like waves into his mind. He suddenly realised exactly what he wanted to do; he wanted it to stop being awkward and cold between them, he wanted to have the right to hug her and to be definitely sure she was all right.

He did now know how to do that now, though. She was still looking at Bill and he saw her shudder a little, as Poppy dabbed some foul smelling ointment on a particular nasty wound.

Maybe it was too late.

The door of the hospital wing opened quietly and Ginny came back in, followed by Harry. It felt as if reality had entered the hospital wing with them, because everybody was trying to explain what had happened to Neville and Bill.

"Greyback hadn't transformed," Ron was asking, and Remus realised he was addressing him. "So surely Bill won't be a — a real — ?"

How was he supposed to answer that? Ron did not need to hear false hopes, but Remus was not sure he could deal with the truth the way Tonks or Poppy could.

"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," he finally said, pretending he was talking about something else entirely, "but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and — and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

He might as well be telling all this to himself.

What right did he had to hug Tonks, to talk to her, if, no matter what everybody said, he was indeed a werewolf? If he was contaminated?

That was the word that suited it better. Contamination. He was contaminated and he had no right to spread that out to other people.

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron said. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state —"

"Ron — Dumbledore's dead," said Ginny.

Remus did not hear his own cry.

_Dumbledore's dead. Dumbledore's dead. Dumbledore's dead._

Ginny's words reverberated on his mind, almost succeeding to block out the recent memories of the fight, and the much more tangible image of Bill lying there.

"Snape killed him," Harry spoke, taking Remus off his trance. _Snape? How was it possible-?_ "I was there, I saw it. We arrived back on the Astronomy Tower because that's where the Mark was. … Dumbledore was ill, he was weak, but I think he realised it was a trap when we heard footsteps running up the stairs. He immobilized me, I couldn't do anything," he glanced around, almost as if he were expecting for somebody to say something, to reproach him not being able to prevent it. Nobody said a word. "I was under the Invisibility Cloak — and then Malfoy came through the door and disarmed him — more Death Eaters arrived — and then Snape — and Snape did it. The _Avada Kedavra._"

Poppy Pomfrey burst into tears but Ginny hushed her up at once. A strange sound, something Remus had never heard before, seemed to be filling all the space around them. It was the sound of a phoenix song. Fawkes was crying his last good-bye to Albus Dumbledore.

For a moment there was something soothing on the sad music, and it seemed to quiet Remus' thoughts a little bit. The horror was still there, but it seemed to be room for something else now.

He could not tell how much time had it passed until the door of the hospital wing opened and Minerva entered, announcing that the Weasleys were on their way. Remus had to take another look at Bill's wounded face and inert body; he did not need to hear about Dumbledore being dead again.

" – … _Snape_," Minerva was saying, "… I can't believe it..."

"Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens," he snapped at her incredulity. "We always knew that."

And yet, all of them had failed to see it. Anger was starting to boil inside him; Dumbledore had made them trust him. All of them, especially he, Remus, had good reasons not to do so, and yet they had obeyed the headmaster. And now he was dead because of his own foolish trust.

The complete image was starting to form in front of everybody's eyes. Harry was telling them how Snape had gained Dumbledore's trust, but it did not make sense to Remus at all. Then, he had wanted to know about the fight, and, in turns, they started telling the parts they remembered. Remus learned that Ron, Neville, Ginny, Hermione and Luna had been patrolling the school as well, only they knew something the Order did not, because they had been looking at two particular places: the Room of Requirement, where de Death Eaters had came from, and Snape's office.

They had not been as naïve; they had not trusted him.

Silence felt again, filled by the continuous song of the phoenix. Suddenly, the doors of the hospital wing burst open again; Molly and Arthur came in, followed by Fleur Delacour. Remus took a couple of steps back to give them room around Bill's bed; at his side, Tonks did the same.

It was a sad scene, Molly, bending over his son's body; Arthur looking lost, asking questions, wanting the reassurance Remus knew he could not give; and Fleur, immobile, pale. Both women started to banter about something, but he had no room in his mind to pay them much attention. Lost in his own gloom thoughts about Dumbledore, he almost gasped aloud when Tonks spoke.

"You see!" She was looking at him, but there was something in her hoarse voice that made it impossible for Remus to look back at her. "She still wants to marry him, even though he's been bitten! She doesn't care!"

He could hardly believe his ears. After all that had recently happened, Bill being almost bitten to death by Greyback, Dumbledore murdered by Snape, was she still thinking about them, he and Tonks, being together?

"It's different," he murmured, "Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —"

What was so strange about her thinking along those lines, though? Had not he, Remus, been thinking about wanting to talk to her again, alone, only moments ago? Right before Harry and Ginny entered with the terrible news? What difference did that made, really?

"But I don't care either, I don't care!" Tonks had faced him, and with a sudden movement, she had grabbed the front of his robes and was shaking him, forcing him to look at her. ?"I've told you a million times…."

"And I've told _you _a million times," Remus interrupted, his eyes still unable to meet her, "that I am too old for you, too poor… too dangerous…."

It was true, of course, but Remus did not believe in his own words any more. He had repeated them in his mind and aloud so many times he had not noticed when had they stopped to make sense.

"I've said all along you're taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus," Molly spoke. She was still hugging Fleur after whatever arrangement they had just reached.

Tonks let go of his robes and took several steps towards the window.

"I am not being ridiculous," he replied stubbornly, wanting to convince himself as well as the others. "Tonks deserves somebody young and whole."

"But she wants you," Arthur said with a sad smile. "And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so."

Remus looked at Bill, still unconscious; now his wounds were clean, but that did not make the sight any better.

"This is… not the moment to discuss it," he felt suddenly the weight of everybody in the hospital wing looking at them, and shame washed over him. "Dumbledore is dead…." He muttered.

"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world," Minerva practically snapped at him.

If somebody else had wanted to say something, he did not know. Hagrid entered the hospital wing and a moment later, he, Harry and Minerva were going out. The room was strangely quiet now.

Slowly, the kids had started to ask questions about the school, and about Dumbledore. Remus found himself answering mechanically but his attention was on Tonks, even if he was not looking at her.

Suddenly, she moved away from the window.

"I…" she muttered, but Remus doubted anybody but he had heard her. She cleared her throat. "I'll go out, send a Patronus if you need me."

And without waiting for an answer, she exited the hospital wing.

Remus, his eyes still on the floor, could feel everybody looking at him. They were expecting him to follow her, but he could not. Not now. Not with everybody staring, and Tonks' words reverberating and-

"Sod it all," he mumbled, and without taking his eyes off the floor, he exited the room, too.


	87. Now that Remus was outside the Hospital

Now that Remus was outside the Hospital wing he could appreciate how oppressive the atmosphere had been there.

Walking down the almost deserted corridors he took deep breaths, trying to clear his mind. He could not have stayed inside, with everybody looking reproachfully at him after Tonks' outburst. Outside, however, he did not know exactly what to do. His initial impulse of following her and talking to her had vanished the moment he had crossed the threshold.

He had to do _something_, that was clear, but he was at a loss of what.

Automatically, he headed downstairs, passing small groups of students. They were on their night gowns, heading back to their common rooms, probably. The news of Dumbledore's dead seemed to have spread very quickly.

He shook his head. What had happened during that very long night seemed to have faded after Tonks' yelling her feelings for him for everybody to hear. In his mind her words reverberated above all. What had she been thinking? Losing control like that in front of half of the Order of the Phoenix and the kids? Shouting like that?

She was impulsive all right, everybody knew that, but taking matters this far…

Remus sighed heavily and finally making up his mind, he headed towards the entrance hall. A long stroll on the cold grounds would be welcomed.

He wondered where Tonks had gone; he suspected she would be in her room in the Hog's Head by now. Would she be feeling guilty? Embarrassed? Still angry at him? Probably a sum of it all, after losing control like she had.

She must have been under a lot of pressure to act like that… she must have…

Remus stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the entrance hall.

Of course there had been a lot of pressure. And anger and frustration. But there had been something else in Tonks' eyes, he just had not wanted to see it before. When she had yelled at him in the Hospital wing, when she had been sarcastic to the verge of cruelty in the Shrieking Shack, she had been sad. Worried about him, yes, but mostly sad. The last thing he had seen in her eyes had been resignation.

Had she actually felt that it was over between them?

Maybe, after all those long months, she had needed to see him back in order to finally give up on him.

And now that she had seen it, that outburst had been her last.

The realisation fell over him as a shower of ice-cold water, and yet it was so obvious. She had used that last ounce of energy she had left after the battle to reach for him one last time and he had failed to grasp it. Now she was done with him.

Quickly he was in front of the great oak doors. He pulled them open with all his might and exited the castle. He needed to find her, he needed to get outside the gates in order to Apparate to Hogsmeade and knock on her door.

Because, it had taken that last ounce of energy, that cries and that sadness in her eyes for him to finally realise that, truth to be told, he had always counted on her waiting for him. It was egoistical, stupid, and cruel even, but it was the truth. And the greatest part of it was that she had wanted to wait for him as well!

Not now, though. If he was right about this last thing… did that mean that it was all over?

There was a figure near the lake. He had been mistaken; Tonks had, after all, not gone back to Hogsmeade, but was standing very still, looking away from the castle.

Sighing with relief, Remus walked even faster. Should he call for her?

He did not, but kept on walking until just metres separated them. Suddenly she turned around, practically colliding with him. Both stared at one another for a moment, and then she opened her mouth.

Remus did not want to hear her anymore. With one long stride he covered the distance between them and, not pausing to think if this was a good idea, he kissed her.

She did not move. Her body was rigid in his arms; her lips, limb. Finally, he heard her grunt. Moving quickly Tonks pushed him, breaking the kiss and looking daggers.

Without a word, she walked pass him, in the direction of the castle.

He could not let her.

"Tonks, wait…," she kept on walking, faster, "Tonks, wait, please!"

Finally she stopped, her back to him, her shoulders hunched. He ran to meet her and face her again.

"This was wrong," he said quietly. What would be right, though, he had no idea.

"Of course it was!" she snapped. "You shouldn't kiss me if you're going to regret it later and tell me those well thought excuses you come up with every time you get too scared to let your feelings win over that stupid brain of yours!"

It hurt because it was true, but if he was hurt or not was not important now.

"I wasn't going -" he tried to explain that this time was different, that he had finally realised what he had been doing wrong.

"And if you ever cared about me," she cut across, "if you still have some respect for me left, please let me go. I promise I won't do this any longer. I give up! Are you happy now?"

"What?"

"I'm saying that I won't be looking for you anymore. I won't ask anything from you. I've done everything I could and I can't take it anymore. I'll try…" she sighed heavily. "From now on I'll try to forget you."

She was looking at him with a steel glare. He had lost it, he had thrown away his very last chance and it hurt more than he could bear.

"Don't," he said softly.

"What?"

"Don't. Don't try to forget me, please."

Knowing it was selfish of him, knowing he had already ruined it for both of them so many times, he still dared to ask, to plead her to give it all one more chance.

"Rem-" she started.

"I love you."

It felt like the first time he said the words; he was certain they were true, but he was also very afraid.

"I know you do," she said, her voice cold. "And I know that you'll say it's because of _that_ we can't be together. I've heard it before, I don't need to hear it again, thank you very much."

_No, Tonks, it's not like that, not anymore._

"You don't understand," impulsively Remus closed the distance between them again and took her hands. This time she did not try to free herself. "I love you. I want to be with you." He sighed. She was frowning slightly, without blinking. "I want to be with you. You were right all along; it was stupid to think otherwise. I just can't be without you."

She opened her mouth a couple of times until finally she managed to mutter, "you…?"

Remus risked it again. This time very slowly, he approached his lips to hers, praying to find her there. Even slower, he felt her warm lips moving against his and it was like bursting with joy.

She drew back a little but this time there was nothing violent in her movements. Her eyes were filled with tears, looking warmly into his, and there was a small, incredulous smile, the most beautiful thing in the world.

With the tip of his finger, Remus wiped off a tear that was rolling down her cheek.

"Is this for real?" she said, in a barely audible whisper.

"It is," he said, hugging her with all his might and taking in her scent.

She finally rested her head on his chest, her body soft against his. He sighed deeply, almost not daring to believe this was happening.

Something soft tickled Remus' chin and he opened his eyes to see what it was. Tonks' hair was changing, and it did not seem as if she had noticed it. Starting from the roots, it was starting to lose its dull, brown colour, to be replaced by the most vivid bubblegum pink, while standing up to form the spikes Remus had missed.

He chuckled softly, he could not help himself.

Tonks looked up at him in a mute question.

As a reply, Remus pulled gently on one of the newly coloured spikes and put it in front of her eyes. She sighed and let out a soft chuckle.

"See what you do to me?" she said.

Remus caressed her newly formed spikes, gently. Not being able to stop himself, he bent down again and his lips met hers with much more intensity this time. It was almost like the first time they had kissed and his tongue was impatient to explore what it had been missing all this time. Tonks' responded enthusiastically and Remus felt slightly dizzy, as lips, hands a bodies met again, thrilled at the proximity of the other.

His hand on her neck, he bent even lower to place a kiss on her ear; she shuddered and Remus felt heat emanating from her. There was salt on her skin, and he vaguely realised she still carried the marks of the battle. It was just a very distant memory.

"Let's go…" she whispered hoarsely.

Remus kissed her down her cheek, all the way to her neck. "Where?"

"Come on," she said, tugging his sleeve. He stopped kissing her, her cheeks were bright pink and her smile wide.

He let her lead the way, passing Hagrid's burned house, towards the gates. As soon as they had crossed them, she grabbed his hand and spun in place. A second later they were on a dark alleyway Remus recognised very well. They were heading to the Hog's Head.

Instead of using the front door, Tonks headed towards the back one. She tapped it with her wand and it opened with a soft creak. Slowly, her hand still holding his, Tonks started climbing up a narrow flight of stairs until they arrived at the topmost landing. They were right next to her door.

She started undoing the spells and Remus, suddenly impatient, drew his wand as well to help her. He saw her smile out of the corner of his eye. A moment later the door opened and they came inside.

Now he was not entirely sure that what his body was urging him to do would be the right thing.

"Remus," she whispered. He looked at her; the room was dark and he could not distinguish her clearly.

"Yes?"

"What you said down there…?" she started, her voice trembling a little.

"Yes?"

She remained silent for a moment.

Then, he felt her arms around his torso. "Nothing," she muttered, before kissing him deeply.

How it had been possible for him to stay away from her for this long, he could not understand. Her scent filled his senses, while his hands caressed her body and he was lost to the rest of the world, tracing paths of kisses up and down her neck. It felt different, though, she was much thinner now, even angular, and her movements seemed somewhat controlled, a little stiff even. Remus ignored that; there would be time to dwell on that later.

He heard her moan softly and he stopped to look at her. Tonks had closed her eyes, her breathing was ragged.

"I love you," Remus repeated. Her eyes snapped open.

"I…" she started slowly, not looking directly at his eyes, but at the space between them. He wanted to hear her saying those words, but he did not want to press her, so he bent over to kiss her again.

She sighed, and, without breaking the kiss, she gently pushed him back until his legs touched the bed. He stumbled, and fell on the rumpled sheets. Tonks chuckled, and bent down to resume their kissing. Remus pulled her towards his chest and rolled to the side, to be in top of her.

At the dim light entering through a gap on the curtains, he saw he was smiling and it was the most beautiful sight in the world. He could not remember when it had been the last time she had smiled at him like that.

"I missed you, Dora," he muttered, before bending low to kiss her again.

* * *

"Marry me."

The words had escaped him without warning, without him being aware when he had exactly decided he wanted to marry her and, moreover, he wanted her to know.

After all that had happened, after them being together again, Tonks had voiced out her fears. She had been right and it had been difficult to hear from her what Remus had known all along. That instead of giving her a chance to be happy and whole, his leaving her had almost finished her. She did not trust him, how could she after all that had happened? And now, in the early hours of the morning, she had actually been waiting for him to go away again. Remus had tried to apologise once and again and now... those two words had been said. It had been just an idea, an impulse; Remus had sat up straight, had taken her hands and before even considered if this was a good idea or if she would curse his wits off, he had clearly said it. And it had sounded just right.

Tonks was looking at him and he wondered if she had heard him right. One eyebrow was slightly arched but it did not seem she was about to say something.

"Marry me, Dora," Remus repeated, trying to put on those simple worlds all that he had been trying to say to her for the past half an hour, when she had doubted he had come to stay, when she had even accused him of damaging both of them when leaving. She had been right, of course, and it was now his task to convince him he was not going anywhere. "Would you be my wife?"

"You want me to-" she finally spoke with a hoarse whisper.

"To be my wife," he said, marvelling about how easily the idea had became the most logical thing in the world. They belonged together, there was no doubt about that, and what would be the point on delaying it?

Tonks was still staring at him; it felt as if she was trying to see what he was thinking.

"Yes," she said, and her voice was loud and clear.

Torn between amazement and wild happiness, Remus felt his smile widened.

"Would you marry me?" he asked again. He needed to be sure; he needed to hear her saying the word again,

"Yes," she was beaming now, her eyes bright at the early morning light.

He pulled her closer and kissed her, he needed to feel her, and this just had to be real.

"Remus," he heard her whisper, but he did not stop kissing her. "Remus," she repeated more loudly and this time he did look at her.

Her eyes were not bright now, but darkened with shadows. She was looking at him solemnly.

"Do you mean it?" she asked him.

It was just a simple question, a voicing out of a natural doubt, but it hurt. He had been such an idiot for so long, he had made it all so difficult and wrong for both of them, and as a consequence, asking her to trust him now was really asking a lot. He had hurt her all right, and now he was paying for it.

"I wonder," he started slowly, "how long will it take for you to start trusting me again. It's not that I haven't earned your mistrust," he added hastily, seeing that she had opened her mouth to say something. "I just... I wish I could wipe your doubts away."

She just looked at him for a long moment.

"Me too," she sighed.

"Let me try," he said, swearing to himself that he would do whatever in his power and even beyond it to make her happy, to make her forget all those terrible months and to give her all she deserved. "Please, Dora, let me make you trust me again."

* * *

**AN: Tonks' CH 81 and 82.**

**Thanks a lot for reading and reviewing!**


	88. Sudden impulsive ideas

**AN: I'm sorry for the change-confusion of chapters. Here it is!**

* * *

Sudden impulsive ideas had never been his thing. Back at his school days, he would have been the reasonable one, the one who had always wanted to think it through, whatever "it" might be.

Why was it then that such impulsive ideas seemed to take over him nowadays, and worst of all, direct him towards following them?

He looked up at the dark house. There was only a small golden light on one of the second floor windows. Her window. The window of his soon to be wife.

Just that thought was enough to exhilarate Remus; he felt lightheaded, happy beyond reason, warm and full of strength. After all that happened, they had finally met one another again; he and Tonks had been able to overcome his own stupid stubbornness and now they were heading towards a lifetime together. It was so wonderful a thought; a lifetime did not seem to be enough time.

The glass panes, partially covered with small patches of some sort, showed him part of the room; the light was briefly interrupted by a passing shadow. It was her silhouette. The sight of her made Remus smile grow broader. There she was, so near, about to go to sleep without him for the last time. What was keeping her awake? Anticipation? Nervousness? Fear?

There it was, that impulsive idea, nagging him. And there he went, ignoring all thought of caution, hastily walking the few steps that separated him from the house and her window. On his way, he bed down a couple of times to pick up some stones. It was old fashion all right, but he was feeling like that and moreover, enjoying it truly.

He could just knock on the door, of course, but that would probably wake up Andromeda and Ted, and he did not feel particularly drawn to do that. They were getting along reasonable well, and when he had came over with Tonks to tell them they were going to get married, both had looked surprised and even mildly pleased. At least on the outside. A lifetime of rejection had thought Remus to read between the lines, and even though Tonks would not admit it, he was sure there had been something not entirely welcome on Ted's words and Andromeda's stares.

He was not looking forward to it. No, it was only she the person he wanted to see.

Just climbing her wall and entering the bedroom to surprise her, was out of the question. He would not put pass his fiancée to curse him all the way to Saint Mungo's on the night prior their wedding. Entering without announcing himself was, literally, risking his life.

Careful he aimed one of the stones at her window. It hit the wall next to it with a small _thump_. He grabbed the second one and was about to throw it when the window jerked open and he saw a tip of a wand pointing at him.

"It is I," he whispered, raising his arms in a surrendering gesture.

"Remus?" Tonks whispered. "What the…?"

"Can I come in?"

A sudden impulsive idea it was. And it seemed he had all but made those happen, since that early morning when he had had the most impulsive, crazy idea of his life. _Marry me_.

"Yeah, 'course!" she prompted. "Should I get the door?"

"No, I think I can manage," he said, looking at the wall. It was a wooden house, not very different from the one that belonged to his parents. He had climbed far more difficult walls.

The anticipation was inexplicable. He had actually seen her and talked to her not very long ago, when she had stopped by her own place, where he was staying, to pick up some things she would need for the night. They had talked, and hugged, and kissed, and it had been his Tonks, the very same Tonks he was about to marry. And yet now, trying to find cracks on the wall big enough for him to sustain his weight, he was almost trembling with eagerness.

"You sure you don't want to use the front door?" Tonks said, her voice vibrating with badly contained giggles.

"I'm fine," Remus panted.

"Just saying. You know, at your old age…"

"And suddenly," Remus said with a heave that made him finally reach the ledge of the window, "you decide to care about that."

Tonks chuckled and extended one hand. Remus took it, careful not to pull her with all his weight, and finally entered through the window. She closed it, and gave in to a flow of laughter.

"Shh, won't your parents hear us?" Remus said, laughing as well.

"Pff! This room has been unperturbed since I was 12."

"You were underage."

"I know. That's how I discovered the trace is just a load of bollocks."

Remus raised an eyebrow; trying to look serious even though he knew he was probably failing.

"I could have levitated you up, you know?" she said.

"And further harm my pride, plus, preventing me from being all romantic?"

"I was thinking along the lines of preventing myself of walking down the aisle towards a man with a broken neck."

Remus approached her and gave her a lingering kiss.

"That's sweet, my dear."

"So, here you are," she muttered after a long, wonderful moment.

"Unless you want me to go," he started in a would be casual tone, but realising as soon the words left him that he was actually fearing she would.

"Nah, it's all right," she said, with feign indifference.

"It'll be just for a while," he said, looking into her eyes and trying to find that comfortable spot; the look that would tell him that it was indeed all right. "I've heard you have an important day tomorrow."

She smiled again, and it was like casting away all his fears.

"Yeah, so they say." She took his hand and pulled him gently onto the bed, resting her back on the board. He sat next to her and she cuddled on his arm.

"Excited?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Well, I'm still scared about Moody."

She chuckled.

"Who isn't?"

"You."

"True that, but I'm odd that way."

It was his time to laugh now.

"Do you think he'll get my name right?" Remus asked.

"I'm infinitely more worried about he getting MY name right, which is something I want to avoid."

"Really? Come off it! How are you going to be sure you're actually married if he's not saying your name, Nymphadora?"

"Don't even think that now that will be married you'll be entitled to call me that."

"Never even crossed my mind," he said with an earnest voice, "Nymphadora," he added in a whisper.

She glared at him. "Very funny. You should keep in mind that my wand's at arm's reach."

"You wouldn't hex me before our wedding, would you?" Remus faked a scandalised voice.

"I could," she said, and he heard the laughter in her voice again. "I might even change my mind about walking towards a man with a broken neck."

"All right, all right," he raised his arms. "I won't call you that. But I'd like to state, for the record, that I happen to think it's a lovely name."

Tonks huffed loudly.

After all that had happened it still felt strange in some ways to have the chance of being with her like this, of bantering and laughing and just being with the other so easily. What had he been thinking when he had purposely decided to go away from all this, he could no longer remember. It might have been the worst decision of his life and he could barely believe he had been granted with a second chance.

"If you hadn't just said the N word, twice, I'd be very glad you're here," she murmured, cuddling on his shoulder.

"Only I did say it," he said, playing along.

"Yeah. Therefore I'm just mildly pleased."

"Well," he sighed in mock resignation, "I could live with that. As long as you let me stay for a little longer."

"Oh well, if you must."

"Can I ask you something?" he said after a moment.

"Is it going to be about my name?"

"No, but if you want to keep on discussing the subject…" She sat up straight to glare at him and he laughed. "No, I wanted to ask you something entirely different."

"All right…"

Remus look around, at the vandalised dolls and the windowpanes full with Muggle stickers, searching for the right way to phrase what was on his mind. The idea had easily popped up, without him planning it to, and it did not seem to be a bad one. But saying it aloud was something else entirely.

"Why did you choose me?"

This time there was no laughter lingering on Tonks' eyes; she looked sombre.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"What?" Remus sat up straight as well. "No, not at all!"

"Oh," she gave him a small, sheepish smile. "For a moment there I thought… never mind."

Remus took her hand and kissed her.

"You're the best thing that had ever happened to me. And the fact that not only I had the chance to be with you once, but that you've given me a second chance is something I could've never wished for, not in my wildest dreams. Still… I was wondering."

Tonks arched an eyebrow, back to her usual self.

"I see, you want an ego boost."

Remus laughed. "Wouldn't go amiss, considering what will happen tomorrow…"

"Oh well… if you must know, I just happened to find your backside very attractive."

This was something Remus was definitely not expecting.

"My… really?" He felt heat climbing up his cheeks. Was he actually blushing? When had it been the last time he had blushed?

"Yup," Tonks continued. "The first time I noticed, you were late for an order meeting and passed right in front of me, and from where was sitting your bum was exactly… well… you gave me a nice view. I started to wonder about how to remove those trousers in order to see if it was all real…."

"What? When was that?"

Now Tonks was laughing in earnest.

"I'm joking! There's no need for you to look this scandalised. Although you do have a very nice arse."

"Good to know, I guess."

"As if you didn't!"

"I don't recall the subject having been broached before, no," he said with a chuckle.

Tonks' laughter diminished and she looked almost serious again.

"If you want me to be bluntly honest, at the beginning I didn't really… it was only that I was absolutely overwhelmed with everything. Being part of the Order, getting to meet Sirius again and having to change almost everything I believed for something else entirely… and keeping it all a secret! I can't recall much of those times, to be honest. It's all jammed together."

Remus nodded. He remembered her all right, though. How could he not, if one of the first words he had heard from her had been a Stunning Spell.

"There was something about you, though. The way you'd behave around everybody else, always so calm and yet ready to suggest things, to do things. I guess that, if you're asking what was it that I saw in you back then, I'd say you were the only person who looked real and trustworthy among that crazy bunch. Not wear off like an old warrior-"

"Like Moody," Remus offered.

"Like him, or even like Kingsley. But you'd seen your deal of things, more than your deal of things! And you keep… I don't know how to describe it."

Remus played with her fingers, not sure about where she was going with all that, but not wanting to interrupt her either.

"I guess I liked the way you'd think about everybody else, about everything, you try to keep things honest and good around you and that's the first thing that struck me. It's not only attractive, it's unique."

She was looking solemn again and, for once, Remus wanted to be the one that lightened up the atmosphere.

"Well, thanks, that's a great ego boost. I'll be able to walk down the aisle and face Moody now, for sure."

Tonks chuckled.

"That's not the reason I started stalking you, though."

"Stalking me? I don't remember you ever stalking me."

"See, I'm pretty good at it." She said smugly. "Juggling my way through time schedules and guard duties in order to casually meet you…"

"You did?" Remus asked, not daring to actually believe it.

"Well… on occasion," Tonks blushed faintly and Remus saw the colour go in a second. Trust her to try to hide it even when they were about to get married. "Actually, to tell you the truth, I would've wanted to see more of you back then, but I didn't want to be too outspoken about it. Anyhoo, what I was saying, the thing was not only you being honest or noble… it was your sense of humour."

That was definitely unexpected.

"I don't have a sense of humour."

"Of course you do."

"Yeah… well… I might have, but it's nothing compared to Sirius, or any of the Weasleys, or even Mundungus!"

"Exactly! That's what I like about yours. It's not outspoken, loud and filling every gap. Your sense of humour is just like you, subtle… and a little bit acid."

"Acid?"

"Yeah! Your being honest and noble and all that made me consider you. Your sense of humour won me over, no doubt."

It was difficult to believe, and it seemed to match his previous ponderings outside her window. He had always been the sensible one, the person who would even put a stop to the fun, if it was becoming too risky or stupid. He would never have said he was the one with the sense of humour.

"This is news to you." Tonks said.

Remus chuckled. "Yes. I've never been the funny one."

"Well, you are. Not exactly funny but… well… you know what I mean." Remus arched an eyebrow. "Funny, yes, but more than that… oh, forget it, I'm rambling."

Remus hugged her and she cuddled on his chest.

"So we're getting married tomorrow, huh?" he whispered.

"It seems like a good idea," she shrugged, her voice vibrating with laughter.

"It is, right?"

"I can't wait."

* * *

The last time he had visited Godric's Hollow had been many years ago. Remus actually had some difficulty finding the grave at the almost non existing light of the moon. He did not want to risk casting light with his wand in case a Muggle just happen to pass by. Although, at 3 in the morning he doubted that was a possibility.

Finally he found it. Small, covered with dust and a couple of dead leaves, it looked very old.

He looked around. The village was asleep, it looked deserted. "_Scurgify!_" he murmured, pointing at the stone. The leaves vanished, and now James' and Lily's names seemed to shine.

"'llo, Prongs, Lils," he muttered. It felt really awkward to be talking to a stone. _I wish you could hear me. I wish you'd be here tomorrow._

_You see, I'm getting married. No, Lily, there's no need to say 'I told you so' and yes, you wold've liked her. Sirius' cousin of all people. And me... can you believe there's actually somebody who not only doesn't mind me being a werewolf, but who's willing to spend the rest of her life with me? No, Prongs, I didn't _Confund_ her._

"I'm getting married. I just wanted you to know," he whispered again, feeling even more foolish. _You would've been happy. You would've been there, to begin with. And Harry too. He won't come now, though. We'll have to keep it low profile and, right now, it's important for Harry to be safe._

_Thinga are messy around here, with the war having started again and everybody being scared of everything, and yet I feel... you'll say I've finally understood why did you get married back then. It's just the only logical thing to do, isn't it? The only thing that makes sense._

What a strange thing, after all these years, to be able to imagine he was talking to them almost as if they were in front of him.

Remus wished there was a place for Sirius too. Having just vanished, he did not have a tomb. It was actually him he had wanted to see tonight, even if that might have been just sitting in the kitchen of numer 12 Grimmauld place and listen on his take of his marrying his baby cousin.

_"I knew she was the one, mate. Didn't I say so before?"_

_"Yeah, well."_

_"Now you treat her right, you hear me? Or I'll have to come and hex you all the way through your next anniversary."_

"You were right, too, Sirius. You were right all along." _Now don't give me that smug smirk, I just admited it, isn't that enough?_

_I wish... I only wish I'll be able to make her happy just as she makes me happy._

He could imagine Sirius' badly aimed slap and James rolling his eyes while muttering something in the lines of "you'd be a git."

"I'll bring her over, all right?" he whispered again. "I don't know when, but soon."

He took a last look at the tomb. "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." The phrase gave him a shudder. He had known it, even before seeing it on the stone, be he had never really understood why had it been chosen. He had never given it much thought, actually. Now, in the face of what might come during the next months it just looked sinister.

And he was in no mood for sinister.

Thinking of his bride, whom he had left not long ago almost sound asleep on her bed, he turned around to walk away and Dissaparate.

* * *

**AN: I like to specially thank Mage-Yewogirife, who left a great review but whom I couldn't reach by PM. Also many thanks to MuggleCrator, , loveislouder94 (who happens to be a fantastic writer!), Blue Luver5000, roflshvuakomail, Louey06, MichGirl07 (thanks a heap for pointing out the grammar mistakes!), bkaddictjk, CharmChaser, genber0398, tt crews, and AnnaMariaNordlade. Your reviews make my day!**


	89. He wanted to go slowly

He wanted to go slowly. He needed for this moment to continue, to last forever- And yet, there was this want, an inexplicable, desperate pull towards her, coaxing him to act upon his most wild instincts. Urging him to take her.

Almost forcing himself to be gentle, to take his time, he caressed her cheek with the tip of his finger, barely touching her skin.

"You are so beautiful."

Under his skin he felt her, Tonks, his Dora, trembling a little, blushing under his gaze, unable or unwilling to morph it away. It was almost as if they were back to that night, so long ago, that time when he had asked her with his eyes and she had nodded with hers, and they had kissed for the first time.

White fabric lay on the floor between them and he carefully stepped over it to get closer to her. She had asked him before to help her unzip her dress and it had been exquisite torture to do it as slowly as his hands would allow him.

He could still see the image of her in that dress, walking down the stairs at her parents' house, careful not to trip on shoes that were so unlike what she would usually wear.

But other than that, it had been she, taking her gaze off the floor to fix those beautiful eyes on his and make him practically bounce in anticipation.

Two steps, three… how many more were needed for Dora and Ted to finally reach him? Time had seemed to drag on forever and he had wanted to tell her to hurry up, so he just winked, and he enjoyed seeing her smile grow even wider.

They had finally arrived and then, it all had been a rush. Words. Moody glaring at him before asking the question, and he completely ignoring that heavy, mismatched gaze. Remus' eyes were only for her when he spoke clearly.

"I do."

He had to suppress a small chuckle the moment Moody, slowly and deliberately, had used Dora's whole name and she had flashed a very heated look in his direction. And yet, she had managed to smile less than a second later, and say her own "I do."

He realised how overwhelmed by his own emotions he was the moment he took the ring out his pocket. His hand was trembling slightly when he took her small one, and for a wild second he wondered if she would notice. Hers was as steady as that time when she had pointed a wand at him in the backyard of the Weasley's house, a lifetime ago.

And then, it all had been a wave of hugs and well wishes, and even a couple of menacing looks from Ted and Moody, but Remus could not care less. Those looks had been about something that had finally ended and was almost forgotten. It was about the present, now. About the small hand in his that he would not let go, even when he was almost being crushed by the twins' bear hug.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, they had managed to go, and for once Molly had not urged them to stay and have three helpings of whatever she had been cooking for two days for the occasion.

With a final look at the lot gathered in the living room, their smiles and cheers, the warm glances and the good wishes, he had grasped his wife's hand more firmly and had Apparated them both into her apartment.

Now she was looking at him, the laughter of shared jokes still lingering in her eyes and in the corner of her mouth, and he wondered how had he managed to believe that he could live without her looking at him the way she was now.

Deliberately, slowly, he bent down to kiss her, allowing his hand to gently caress the length of her back. Under his palm he could feel the scar she had gotten after a bad attempt at Apparition, she had probably forgotten to morph it away or maybe she just did not care anymore. He did not want to think about it either.

Her naked body pressed against his and it took all his will not to rush into the heat emanating from it and just follow his wildest instincts. He would not. He needed her, urgently, but he also needed to enjoy every second of it.

She moved her head, slowly tracing paths of kisses along his jaw. With her hands on his neck she gently pulled, she wanted him to get closer and he did not mind. His hands exploring her back, her hips, he felt he could stay like that forever. Only her kisses had grown more urgent and she had found his mouth again, exploring, biting slowly, and he almost growled in pleasure.

Taking a step backwards, she tried to pull them both into the bed. Mid-way she tripped over some forgotten piece of clothing and both landed, side by side, a little bit more harshly than anticipated. She laughed and he thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"I'm sorr-" she started, even though he suspected she was not exactly sorry.

"I'm not," he said, pulling up his weight on top of her and starting trailing kisses down her neck. She moaned softly and this time he actually enjoyed the internal struggle between wanting to take her right away, and prolonging the moment as much as possible.

* * *

Through the window, the sky was still dark and he could even distinguish the moon, shining through scarce clouds.

"So," he asked after a moment of shared laughter and kisses, "what did _you_ think the first time you saw me?" She had just asked him the same question and both had gotten lost in memories. They had even mention Sirius and for a second, Remus had felt a pang of sadness. It was almost forgotten now. He had had to go on then, and he had to it now, to focus on a present that, for the first time in a very long time, looked promising and was absolutely enjoyable.

Dora chuckled.

"You don't want to know."

Remus shifted his weight to his elbow to better look at her, an eyebrow arched.

"I don't?"

"No, you don't."

"But I do," he prodded her side with the tip of his finger, knowing that that would tickle her. She laughed, but then she looked serious at him again.

"So you're going to torture the answer out of me. You know they train us for that, right?"

"Really?" he opened his eyes in mocked surprise. "Do you have this sort of training in the Auror Department?" he pointed at their naked bodies and at the tangled sheets at their feet. "I definitely have to have a word with Moody about it."

She laughed. "I meant torture."

"Oh…" he said, prodding her again. "This?"

"That," she gasped, trying to suppress the laughter. "Won't. Work."

"So you won't tell me what was it that you think the first time you saw me…" he said, turning his prodding into soft caresses that run up and down her side.

"Nope."

"Come on, how bad can it be?" he said, moving his hand further down, reaching between her legs.

"It isn't…" her voice was getting weaker and her eyes, brighter.

"And you won't tell me…" he pushed his hand even lower, with the lightest of caresses, and he felt the heat on his fingers.

"Why would… well… no…" her eyes had closed, she was starting to sound incoherent between heavy breaths, and Remus smiled at this new game he had discovered.

"No what? You won't tell me, then?" he whispered into her ear.

"I don't… think so…"

Suddenly, Remus withdrew his hand and stared at her with a blank expression. "My efforts are wasted, then."

"Wait what?" her eyes snapped open.

"You really had a good training," he laid on his back again, his hands folded over his stomach, looking at the ceiling as is it was the most interesting thing on earth.

"Tease," she grunted.

"You're a tease," he said, looking at her.

"Oh, come on," she said, giving him a light punch on the chest. "It's nothing, really."

"Then tell me."

"All right," she said, grumpily. "But don't you start thinking that finger thing you just did had anything to do with me telling you."

"The thought had never crossed my mind."

"Good."

She glared at him and he thought it was a very endearing sight, given the circumstances.

"So, that time…" he started, laying on his side again, to better look at her.

"That time, yes…. Well… I actually thought you were a bit of a jerk."

That was something he did not really expect.

"Really? How come?"

"Well… I don't know… you were there, looking all sure of yourself, and pointing that wand at me almost as if you thought I was a child playing with her mother's wand and about to take an eye off somebody. You were even smiling!"

"No I was not!" he could honestly not remember being amused at the time.

"You were… well, until I disarmed you. Then you weren't smiling any more."

"And that smug smile is because…?"

"Oh let me gloat about it for a second."

"So, basically you though I was a jerk-"

"See why I didn't want to tell you?"

Remus laughed softly at her mocked indignation, and took a strand of pink hair on his fingers.

"Well…" she doubted for a second. "At first I didn't thought you were a jerk. At first, when I saw Sirius, I was genuinely scared!"

"It didn't show."

"Thanks," she smiled at him a little sheepishly and he thought it was just adorable. After a moment she spoke again, "then I thought you were a bit too full of yourself, and then… well, Mad-Eye arrived and I felt like a prize idiot!"

Remus chuckled and bent down to kiss her.

"And I even gave you the wrong wand," she almost groaned.

"Ah, yes, that was pretty amusing."

"Easy for you to say. You weren't the rookie, trying to impress her new superiors!"

"Well, you did impress me, and I wasn't your superior."

"Oh well," she said grumpily. Remus did not buy it though, and kissed her again, with gentle brushes around her neck until he heard her chuckle softly.

"And then," she spoke again. "You winked at me."

"Did I?" he said, trying to recall the moment and, above it all, the reasons for him to do it.

"Right before I left the meeting with Moody. Actually, you had said something before about being one of the nicest disarming spells you had had the misfortune to receive or something like that and I thought that you might be flirting, or mocking me, or both… but then you winked and… I don't know… all of a sudden you were no longer a jerk."

Remus was not sure what sort of warm feeling was spreading inside him at her words.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she beamed, "so be careful with those winks of yours, because those do things to people!"

He chuckled. "I don't want to do things to people," he protested half-heartedly. "No in that sense, at least."

"Good to know," she murmured, cuddling at his side and looking for a comfortable spot, her spot.

He rearranged the covers around them with his free arm and enjoyed the soft skin of her legs against his. Even when they had been together, he had always felt it was a privilege to be able to be this close to her. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, wishing for this night to last forever.

* * *

**AN: It's been so long since I posted last, I had almost forgotten what I was supposed to do. So sorry about that! If somebody's still there, thanks a heap!**


	90. They had agreed to meet

They had agreed to meet at Moody's place before flying to Harry's relatives. Moody had argued against all of them flying together there, at the same time, saying that was a lot of a give away. It had costed Remus and Kingsley a lot to try to convince him that, since coordination was a very important point of the plan, well Disillusioned or disguised they would have a better shot at succeeding.

"I'm only saying that if they find one of us, they'll find us all!"

"We need all of us to arrive at the same time," Kingsley had said, for once with a slight ring of impatience on his voice. "We cannot risk the waits and coordination."

"What we could do is make a small deviation before getting there," Tonks had suggested. "You know, a couple of extra loops, small enough to divert anybody stationed in the vicinity, not large enough to make us arrive late."

"And then we'd be risking-"

"We are risking anyway, Mad-Eye," Tonks pointed out, exasperated. "We know. So stop fussing and let's get to work!"

Remus was positive that Moody would have had a fit of anger if the circumstances had been different. Their current situation, a damaged group, lacking of the leader they had always thought would be there, and the pressing predicament of having to get Harry Potter outside his relatives' house as soon as possible, was making everybody edgy, to say the least. For the first time since he could remember, Remus was seeing Moody doubt and even give in.

That, alone, was enough to make him even more edgy.

Now he was facing the Auror's door, his and Tonks' broomsticks on his hand. He had met Arthur, his kids and Hermione Granger just outside.

It surprised him a little to see Tonks already inside. She promptly assured she had managed to get earlier from her shift at the Ministry and he had not need to read further into it only... there was something strange. She had hugged him, hard, but she had taken to do that recently. And yet... something in her eyes, maybe? Was she trying to avoid his gaze while exchanging glances with Mad-Eye?

Remus wondered if he should ask what that was about. Maybe she was just anxious, maybe she and the old Auror had just made up after the last very harsh exchange of words they had, although Remus could not remember Tonks ever apologising to Mad-Eye.

The arrival of the remaining members of the group took the thought off his mind for a moment. There were spells to cast, Silencing and Disillusionment charms, they had to make sure the thestrals were up to the task and that Moody's sacks carried all that they needed.

Soon enough they were ready, the younger members of the group already mounting their brooms with set faces, all determined to make this mission a success, no matter what. He turn around to look at Tonks once before flying and he found her looking at him, a strange expression in her eyes.

"Are you all right?" he muttered, taking a step closer in her direction.

"Yeah," she said, "fine."

"For a moment there you seemed-"

"All right, everybody, let's go," Moody boomed, and everybody headed to the back garden or the front, to climb up their rides.

"I love you," Tonks said very quickly, with a somewhat clipped smile.

"I love you too," Remus replied.

"See you there, then," she said, and before he could react, she had pecked him in the lips and had almost sprinted outside.

* * *

Even though he had been joking with Fred less than a second ago, George was now looking solemn, as he climbed the broom behind Remus. Already turned into Harry, he said something about being an advantage to be such a midget if you were to share a broom, and Remus couldn't help to smile a little at the comment.

He looked at Tonks, and at an uncomfortable looking Harry, sitting behind her. If Ron was anxious or just plain flustered, he could not tell. She winked at him and he smiled right when Moody's voice called again.

"Good luck, everyone. See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One... two... THREE!"

Remus kicked hard on the ground a felt George tightening his grip on him with one hand. The other one, he was sure, was clutching his own wand just as he was clutching his.

They needed to head north, to Kingsley's house, one of the closest safe locations they had found. He had protested when he had gotten one of the easiest routes, but there had been no room for discussions, and now the only thing he had to do was-

He had barely registered the referential orientation marks when yells seem to hit them from all over.

People were shouting and they seem to come from every possible direction.

"They're here!" George gasped. "_Impedimenta_!"

"_Protego_!" Remus echoed, trying to make sense of what was happening. Hooded figures were flying around them, on top of them, circling even under them, and while ducking flashes of bright light, he saw the different pairs of Order members and fake Harrys heading to their different destinations. For a second he wished he could see Tonks-

"_Stupefy_!" George's yell made him turn around abruptly and head towards their intended destination. _They'll be all right, Dora'll be all right_.

"_Stupefy_!" Remus yelled as well, pointing his wand at his back, blindly firing while trying to duck possible spells aimed towards them and trying to keep his route more or less steady.

"How many?!" he roared, diving as fast as his old broomstick would allow and climbing up again.

"Four! No Five! _Protego_! They're chasing us!"

A very slight vibration on the handle made him realise at least one spell must have hit George's Shield charm. Remus dived again, casting another curse with his wand, illuminating for a split second the havoc around them.

"Snape's with them!" George yelled again. "_Crucio_!"

Remus could barely register the unforgivable curse and the thought of what could possible make George hate Snape so much to cast it. He needed to figure out a different strategy, soon, or they would close on them.

"_Impedimenta_!"

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

There was a whoosh of air right next to them and Remus knew that it had been a very close call. He looked around and tried to aim this time.

"_Stupefy_!" finally, the spell hit the target, and one of the hooded figures fell off his broom. Remus could not linger to see what would happen to him, he had just had an idea.

"Hold on and keep on firing!"

"_Impedimenta_!" was George's only answer.

It was difficult to make out what was under them at the dim light of the spells being fired by both sides, however Remus remembered more or less the different areas of the route. There was a dark shadow beneath, something that looked promisingly like a forest he remembered was supposed to be mid-way. It was their only chance. Remus dived down again and heard the Death Eater yelled at one another, ready to follow them.

"_Avada Kedavra_!" he heard again, and forced the old broomstick to zigzag and spin around, making themselves as difficult to target as possible.

"_Stupefy_!" Remus cried again, right before diving amongst the trees' topmost branches.

"Wha- _Protego_!" he heard George, and he felt that his spell was not only keeping the spells of the Death Eaters at bay, they were also protected against the branches that otherwise would have wounded them.

A sharp yell at his back suggested that at least one of the Death Eaters had not thought of that. He dived even lower, until he reached almost the ground, and continued his twisted flying, dodging tree trunks at top speed.

"Where are they?" Remus yelled.

"One crashed, I can't see the others!"

It had failed. "They're waiting for us to come out," Remus grunted. The woods were small and the space between the trunks was getting wider. There was still a good way to go to get Kingsley's place, they needed a different strategy. "We can't hide in here forever!"

"Let's go on," George said, "I'll keep fighting them off, you keep zigzaging and will get there."

It was the only reasonable thing to do if there were not to miss their Portkey. The momentary refuge the trees were providing was an illusion. As far a Remus knew, Snape or whoever was out there could be summoning more Death Eaters to get inside the woods and drag them out.

And yet, he felt they were both in a desperate vulnerable position. Getting into safety should be their first priority, and close to it, he needed to know if the maneuver had served for something, if the rest of the group was unharmed.

"All right, I can see the end of the woods. George, get ready!"

He felt George shuffle behind him and he tightened his grip both on the broom handle and on his wand.

The spell hit them before they were even outside, and the broom fell of course, hitting one of the last tree trunks.

"Hold on!" Remus yelled, and he felt George's both arms tighten around his waist, while he'd do the same with the broom. With a strong crash, they hit the earth and bounced, and he felt the handle slip from his fingers. They rolled on the ground for what felt like a long while until Remus felt his body collide against another tree.

"Back, we have to get back!"

For a wild moment, he and George scrambled to free themselves from one another and from tree leaves and branches. "_Accio broom_!" he yelled and less than a second later he felt the wood hit his palm. "Come on!"

There was no need to yell. George, still looking like Harry, was mounting right after him and a heart-beat later the both of them were kicking the ground, heading upwards as fast as possible.

Another spell passed too close, and Remus heard George's Shield charm a second too late. He risked a glance around and saw that more Death Eaters had been summoned. For the first time he got a glimpse of Snape, his hood fallen. Next to him he could distinguish Dolohov, also without a hood. The other two figures were unrecognisable but it did not matter any more.

"_Stupefy_!" Remus cried again and he saw the spell miss the target by less than an inch.

There were still flying north, they could not be that far away now, it was about time to get there.

Finally he saw it, the hill and the small house at the distance, and he could practically imagine the invisible protection around it.

"We're almost there."

"_Avada Ked-_!"

"_Sectumsempra_!"

"Aargh!" George yelled. Remus felt his weight push against his own back and he tried to turn around and look at him.

Something hot trickled down his back and neck, even at the dim light of the starry sky he could see it was blood.

"_Stupefy_!" He yelled again, and he did not wait to see if he had hit his target. Pointing his broomstick at the house, he flattened his body against the handle to give the broom as much speed as possible. George's grip on his waist seemed to be less strong. Where had he been hit? How much blood he was losing?

"Stay with me, George," he muttered between gritted teeth. As the only response, he felt his hold loosen almost completely. Gripping the handle with his legs and wand hand, Remus clasped George's jacket. "We're almost there."

He heard something being yelled at his back and he had to duck again. George's weight shifted and he spiralled, trying to keep him on the broom. They were nearer now, almost there.

Remus didn't feel it. It wasn't until his feet hit the ground hard, right in front of Kingsley's front door that he realised they had made it, and that the Death Eater's were now unable to get to them.

"George," he turned around, his hand still clutching George's jacket.

He was very white and a thick trail of blood was oozing from the side of his head. Remus almost gasped aloud: George's ear had been completely removed. Without pausing to think, Remus pulled the sleeve of his own shirt and pressed it against the wound.

"George!" Harry's eyes fluttered open, but they were not focusing. Remus saw the green turning into brown as the effects of the Polyjuice Potion wore off. "George, listen, grab this, press this against your head. Can you do that?"

George nodded slowly, and Remus left him there, lying on the ground, while he sprinted as fast as he could towards the house. Maybe the Portkey was still there, maybe they weren't that late. He saw it, a fork lying on the kitchen table, and he took it, sprinting towards the lying figure of George as fast as possible. The fork was turning blue; if he did not reach George he would have to let it go, while figuring another way to go to the Burrow. He would not leave him alone like that.

"Grab this!" Remus yelled, pulling the twin's hand hard and making it touch the fork. A second later they were spinning in the spot.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot avengerlover, Aiedail En Galad (great pen name), Snaerky64, Louey06, MuggleCreator, bkaddictjk, "Guest" (no idea who you are, but thanks!), Blue Luver 5000 and roflshvuakomail.**

**Just like Tonks' Tale, this story will have 100 chapters... which means, 10 chapters to go. **

**If you recognise something, it belongs to _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. _Just borrowing, I solemnly swear no profit is being made!**

**Cheers!**


	91. He had hated to discuss with Harry

He had hated having to discuss with Harry about his inclination towards trusting everybody. And yet, while it had been difficult, he had felt as if something inside him was actually relieved he was saying aloud something he had kept on thinking for almost sixteen years.

"_No, I think you're like James who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends."_

James had died trusting everybody and Remus could not help but think that it was up to him, and only him, to make sure James' son would not make the same mistake.

At his side, Tonks, quietly wiping off her tears, made him realise there were far more pressing matters now, and even though the last thing he wanted to do was to leave her alone like this, he knew it was up to him now Kingsley was gone to fulfill his duty to the Prime Minister.

"There's work to do," he said to Bill. "I can ask Kingsley whether —"

"No," said Bill, almost as if he had been thinking the same thing. "I'll do it, I'll come."

They needed to retrieve Mad-Eye's body, fast, before somebody else, the Ministry, the Death Eaters, got there to take it. The occupants of the Burrow's sitting room protested. Molly even suggested they should wait, but it was obviously half-hearted. They all understood.

Remus looked at Tonks. "I'm sorry to leave you."

"Bollocks," she said with a sad, watery smile. "You've work to do. We all have."

He just nodded, first at her and then at the rest of the occupants of the Burrow. "See you at home," he whispered to Tonks, before turning around and heading towards the door with Bill.

"Shall we Apparate?" Bill asked Remus when they reached the garden.

"Yes. And fly around," he said, retrieving his abandoned broomstick from the ground. Bill took another forgotten broom and both went outside the boundaries of the protections to Disapparate.

They had not been very sure where to start. Even though Bill had seen it all happen, there had been the confusion of finding themselves surrounded by Death Eaters and courses, while trying to find the right direction towards the safe places. There was no way to pinpoint the exact location of the fray, so they decided to search around together as a precaution in case somebody might be lurking nearby, flying in small circles that grew wider, scanning the surroundings.

There had been no need. As they flew around low, looking for signs of the struggle, for something familiar at the early light of dawn, it became evident that somebody had already been there. There were silhouettes on the ground, broken branches and pieces of clothes, trails that looked suspiciously like bodies being dragged. Even-

"Look," Bill whispered, flying even lower and retrieving something. He handled it to Remus. It was a piece of wood, way too well carved to be just a branch. It was a fragment of a broom handle. If it had belonged to Mad Eye or to one of the fallen Death Eaters they could not tell.

On went their search, up, and low, tracing wider circles; there was nothing to find.

"Bill," Remus asked and his voice sounded strangled after such a long time without speaking, "Are you sure you saw him getting hit? Isn't it possible that he-?"

Bill's deeply scarred face contracted in a grimace. "I'm pretty sure, Remus. So is Fleur. There's no way... he was dead before he fell."

There was nothing else to say to that.

Several hours passed and the sun was high on the sky before they finally decided there was nothing to be found, and almost without saying a thing, both went their separate ways.

Bill was to inform Arthur and he would probably contact Tonks. If she would be able to return to her flat earlier or not, was not clear, but there was nothing else to do but wait, and it was a place as good as any other.

Only, it was empty, which left Remus alone with his thoughts.

When Dumbledore had died, he had felt anger, boiling hot inside him, some sort of wild desperation that had translated in a peculiar sort of sorrow... only to be replaced almost at once with the overwhelming feeling of being with Tonks again. It still hurt, but in a different, detached way. Mad-Eye's death felt absolutely different.

It was just sadness.

A deep ache inside him, that he did not remember having felt for a very long time. He could not help to replay in his mind the last conversations he had had with the old Auror, the way he would glare at him sometimes, the concern on his gaze when planning a mission, even the way he had looked at Tonks after their wedding, with a mixture of pride and concern.

Now the old Auror, the tough warrior was gone. Even if they, the Order, were to continue to try and fight this enormous enemy, there was no way to deny they had suffered their greatest loss so far.

* * *

Tonks had finally arrived, shortly after midday. After getting Bill's message, Arthur had informed her it was over and now she was listening as Remus told his and Bill's search. He paced the room, he could not stand still, or that deep, painful sadness would crawl over him. She, on the other hand, was sitting, hugging her knees, and he could not help but notice how small and scared she looked, with her big dark eyes fixed on him.

"And… and isn't it possible…" she muttered when he finished describing the scene, "that he's still alive?"

It was the same question he had asked Bill, and he wished he could give her a different answer. Finally stopping on his tracks, he sat down next to her and stroked her dark red hair. She hid her face between her knees and he wondered if she was crying.

"No, Dora," he sighed, "there's no way. Bill told me the details. He and Fleur saw him getting hit by the killing curse and fall down."

Tonks looked up again.

"So they took him. The Death Eaters".

It was the only explanation, and Remus did not wanted him or her to dwell on the possible consequences of that.

"We reckon they did."

She was looking past him, to the wall in front of her, and he, feeling weak, resumed his pacing of the room. If at least they had something to do, other than wait for the Order to assimilate the news and think of a new strategy, while finding out who had been the traitor.

"What we need to know is what happened?" he answered his own mute question. "Who could have sold us to them? They knew the exact date of the moving, they were ready and waiting for us! Somebody must have betray-"

"I'm pregnant."

Trapped in his own grim thoughts, he felt as if the words were passing through him, leaving no meaning behind. They were just that, words, sounds, and yet... He turned around on one heel and looked at her. She was looking down again, as if she was trying to memorise the pattern of the sofa. She could not have said what he-

"I..." she raised her head and fixed those big, dark eyes at him, clearing her throat. "We... we are having a baby."

The words were still there, and they were making no sense. A baby? They? How? Right in the middle of the worst situation Remus had found himself into? How was it even possible? Hadn't they been careful? A baby? Her... his... baby? It could not be. There just had to be a mistake. Because that meant she was carrying it right now!

"Dora...?" he muttered, his throat dry.

She took a deep breath.

"I just found out today." Her voice was a bit shaky and he still found himself having trouble to get the meaning of her words. She was still looking at the wall in front of her, and it sounded almost as if she was repeating something she had learned by heart. "I had been feeling... well, a bit sick in the morning." Had she really? For how long? And why had he not noticed it? "I went to St. Mungo's today," she continued, her voice now much stronger. "I needed to know and I couldn't wait. The Healer said it's coming in April."

"April...?" Remus repeated, trying to understand what it really meant. Something coming, somebody coming. No. It couldn't. Nothing could come, nothing could grow, nothing could harm Dora the way that mistake would!

With two long strides he was back at her side.

"There's still plenty of time, then," he said, sitting down and taking her hand. She was probably scared, terrorised, he needed to assure her it was going to be all right. He was going to protect her. "We have to… to… to get rid of it. And quickly. We could-"

"What?" She snapped, finally looking at him. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

He stared at him. Hadn't he been clear enough? What was so difficult to understand?

"We need to… do something," he said, uncertain of how to explain it, without scaring her even further. "Don't we? We need to keep you safe, and to do so we need to… er… dispose the thing…"

"The thing?" Tonks was on her feet, and she waved her arm almost as if she had wanted to draw her wand. "Why on the name of Merlin's balls are you talking like this?"

She was furious, and he finally understood... that she wasn't understanding at all.

"Don't you see?" He felt his own voice raise as he stood up as well. He could not afford being delicate now, he just needed her to understand. "We don't know what's in there? It might hurt you!"

She look at him almost as if he had physically hit her. Her eyes were cold and her hands shaking.

"It's called a baby, Remus, and I think you have a point there. They can get very dangerous when they're drooling."

Trust Tonks to try to make a joke in a situation like this. She was not getting it, why was it so difficult with her and his being a werewolf? After all this time, after all the times she had seen him after a transformation, hadn't she understand what being one was about? Why couldn't she see that his kind...?

"You don't understand! My kind doesn't breed!"

It felt like repeating a very old truth. Something he had told Sirius, and James, and so many others so many times. It was sad, and painful, but it was.

"Oh, yeah, I can see why," she snapped, her voice loaded with sarcasm. "The world has no use for insensitive gits like you!"

"You're missing the point! Don't you get it? Back in the pack it never happened! The babies die in the transformation!"

How was he supposed to make her understand? To describe the horrors that the women of the packs he had met had to face when finding out they were pregnant? Sometimes the creature would survive the first or even the second transformation. By the third month, they were sure to die during the full moon, risking the mother's life in the process. He had never talked to Tonks about any of this. There had been no need and now he all but wished he had been much more explicit.

"Whose transformation?" Tonks was yelling. "You do realise I don't transform, do you? And therefore I won't kill it?"

Why was it so difficult for her to understand that this was not about it...

"You don't, but it might! It's a baby werewolf you're carrying in there!"

"How do you know that?" her hands flew to her stomach in a gesture so fierce and protective that startle him. He could not understand how after so little time she was feeling like this about what, in essence, was nothing more than a group of cells, very dangerous cells. "It's not! She would have told me if there would've been something fishy with this!"

"Who?"

"The Healer, at St. Mungo's! The only thing she said is that it- he, she, whatever, will be born in April!"

Of course she would said that. That Healer had had no ideas what she was looking, or if she was supposed to look for something strange. She had just seen there was something...

"Shit," was the only thing he could say, feeling some sort of heavy defeat around him.

Tonks took two long steps in his direction and he looked up, finding here mere centimeters from him.

"Listen to me, Remus Lupin, and listen carefully," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm going through with this. And you better tag along! And if this… creature… turns out to be a cub, well great then! We're having a puppy!"

And with an impatient gesture with her hands she turned around and walked into the bedroom. The door closed with loud bang that made everything around tremble.

He did not missed a second. Without a clear plan of what to do or what to say, Remus was already opening the door, ready to cast a spell if she had locked it, and founding to his relief that she had not. He needed to make this right somehow, only he had no idea how. The only thing that seemed clear at the moment is that she needed to calm down; both needed to.

"I'm sorry. Dora, I'm so sorry." _I'm sorry I am doing this to you. I'm sorry you will have to go through all this because of me. I'm sorry to be what I am and to have made you think it's all right to cope with all of this._

He felt contaminated. Worse, he felt he had contaminated her. And yet, he yearned for her, he needed to be near her in order to prepare her, to convince her this could not happen and that they should do something about it while there was still time. She looked at him and very slowly, he hugged her.

* * *

**AN: Thanks a lot to Louey06, MuggleCreator, roflshvuakomail, CharmChaser, Aiedail en Galad, Blue Luver5000, loveislouder94, Snarky64 and Illyria934! **

**And many thanks to everybody reading this tale!**


	92. The more he thought about it

_August 2nd 1997._

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Dumbledore had entrusted Harry with a mission, the specifics of which nobody in the Order knew. It had something to do with finishing Voldemort, that part was clear. And that meant the rumours about him being the chosen one were probably true; it all was so logical and yet so immensely absurd.

He was just a boy, nothing would change that. A talented individual, a good wizard and a great person, but just a kid, terribly young for what was been expected from him. Of course, there were his friends, Ron, Hermione, but they were kids as well. The three of them had achieved so much and yet, Remus could not help but wonder if this task would not be just the last one, the one they would not be able to fulfill.

Remus remembered another time, that seemed to belong to another life, in which 5 teenagers had begged Dumbledore to join the Order and he had agreed. True, a war like the one they were fighting then, just as the one they were fighting now, required as much help as possible and yet... from all those 5 teenagers only two were alive now, and the other one not in the way he would have wished. Couldn't Dumbledore have foreseen this might happen to these kids as well?

And yet, there must be a good reason while it had to be Harry, Remus had no doubts about it, just as there was a reason why Harry had not told anybody what they were up to. After the Death Eaters had finally left the remainings of Bill and Fleur's wedding, Molly and Arthur had told them they knew Ron, Hermione and Harry were thinking about leaving.

"Harry told me there was something he was supposed to be doing," Molly had said, her voice breaking. "He said Dumbledore left him a task, but honestly, Remus, he is just a boy, barely of age! There must be a mistake!"

Remus could not bare looking at her in the eye and tell her there was not. So instead he volunteered to go and look for them, to make sure they were all right, although in his heart of hearts he was sure they were. The Ministry would surely make a big announcement if they were to capture Harry Potter.

When the Death Eaters had finally left the Burrow, he and Tonks had headed to her parents' house right away, not caring if they were being followed or not. Escaping the Tonks' house to go looking for the person they were looking for was something else entirely, and it had been much more difficult than what he had anticipated. The Death Eaters and ministry workers had made a point trying to convince them they would leave them alone. They had not even needed Tonks' warning to realise it was just a show. They were being watched all right.

Remus took some time running pointless errands, allowing himself to be followed to his own apartment, Tonks', some shops in Diagon Alley and even a couple of random Muggle places, while trying to figure out who was following him and what methods he was using. He realised soon enough they were even able to follow him when he would Disapparate, a very elaborate technique Tonks had told him about some time ago. That spell was not only very complex; it was supposed to be unknown to most wizards, a privilege of sorts the Aurors would keep for themselves. The fact that Voldermort's supporters knew how to perform it not only proved that they were well trained, it spoke volumes about who was training them.

The first night he stayed at Tonks' flat. It was curious he still thought of it as being hers, even though he had been living with her there for some time now, and before his going to the pack, for much longer. It was a silly thought. His things were scattered around the place and it was obvious that, for all purposes, it was his as well as hers.

He was tired. He took of the dirty dress robes he had been wearing and took a long shower. There were small wounds and bruises where he had fallen, the moment Yaxley had casted the Cruciatus curse on him; mostly his muscles felt sore and his skin, raw. He should been used by now to the after effects of that course, but there was something so intense about it, it always seemed like the first time. It always took him by surprise.

Tonks, and Charlie and Bill Weasley had gotten a tough deal too, but apparently they had not cursed them like that. Trust Death Eaters to take the resident werewolf as a punching bag.

After the unexpected guests had left the Burrow, he and Tonks had left to check on Ted and Andromeda, only to found out that they not only had gotten a visit, too, but that the Death Eaters had been very rough with them as well. It was safe to suppose they had raided any other place related to them, to the Order. That's when Remus and Tonks realised they were being watched, not only by people stationed outside the Weasley's home, but by other cloaked figures badly hidden near the Tonks'.

How long would it be possible for Harry, Ron and Hermione to stay out of harm's way?

Exiting the shower, he thought about Tonks, now at her parent's house. They had decided she would stay there. Remus knew she thought it was so she could protect her parents; he was thinking differently.

In what seemed to be a strained, forced way, Tonks had just told Ted and Andromeda they were expecting a baby. It had costed them some effort to get around the idea, but Remus knew they would not turn their backs on their pregnant daughter. They would take care of her if something would happen. They would take her to St. Mungo's the minute that baby would start causing trouble. For the time being, she was as safe as possible.

There was not much time to lose. Before the crack of dawn, Remus left the flat, apparating to a small inn up north where he had stayed on occasion on Order's business. It had not worked, the person following him was very good at it.

The second night he stayed at his own flat. It had been so long since the last time he had lived there, it all felt somewhat alien. There was a slight musty smell, and a thin layer of dust on all the surfaces. If Tonks' flat was still "her" flat in his mind, this place had stopped being "his", long ago. What was his place, then, he could not help but ask himself, while cleaning a bit before sitting heavily on the shaggy couch.

The heavy feeling inside him made him wonder if Dementors had not been stationed outside his flat. He even checked outside the window and, other than two cloaked but very human figures, he did not see something strange. He went to the small kitchen and searched in the cupboard; even if it had been a while since he had last lived here, there was still some chocolate. The small, weak feeling of happiness he felt when discovering it died after having a couple of pieces. This heavy sadness, the feeling of despair, would not go away. It was all his. It was that sort of sadness you could not cast away with a bar of Honeydukes finest.

The previous night he had been too tired and too scared to think much. Now, on his own, images, ideas, real and imaginary dialogues were flooding his mind , almost as if somebody had been waiting for him to stop, in order to play some twisted record inside his head.

"_What's this? A werewolf?" One of the Death Eaters had said, the minute they had the remaining of the wedding guests rounded up in the Weasley's living room. How they had known that he was a werewolf, Remus did not know, but he suspected they had been told he might be there, before having sent to the wedding. He did not care, though. Tonks had been roughly taken away from the group into the kitchen and he had no idea what they were doing to her._

"_You're coming with us, scum," said another person. Remus recognised this one, or so he thought. Didn't he used to work in the Werewolf Regulation Office at the Ministry? Maybe he had been the one recognising him?_

_The Death Eater had taken him by the arm, painfully twisting it, and he had walked outside again, where the remainings of the white and golden canvas were smoking slightly._

_Roughly, he let go of Remus, and he was just thinking about grabbing his own wand when he felt it, rather than heard it._

"Crucio_!"_

_It was worse than the toughest transformation. It was more painful than feeling his own spine snap and regrow; the scratches and slashes he was feeling were the only other thing worse than a werewolf ripping somebody apart._

_Remus panted, and only after feeling he was laying, his face on the ground he realised the Death Eater must have lifted the curse._

"_What are you doing here, scum?" said the Death Eater, turning him around with his boot. _

_Remus did not answer, but tried hard to stand up, the thought of reaching for his wand, forgotten. This was just one man, and he could probably take him on his own, or, at least, cast a Shield charm around himself before the next course came. But it would take nothing for him to summon the rest and that would only prolong the inevitable._

"_Where is Harry Potter?" The Death Eater asked. _

_Remus looked blankly at him, while thoughts raced inside his mind. Harry, Ron and Hermione had not been there when they had finally surrender. All the wedding guests had managed to Disapparate, probably the three kids had gone amongst them. Where? And why? Had they just sent the peril and had had the common sense of running away? Or had they decided it was time to start doing something else?_

"_I've asked you a question, beast!" the Death Eater said. "_Crucio_!"_

_A very strange thought came over Remus just before the course hit him. The pain was just an idea. They were not doing a real thing to him, it was an illusion. Couldn't he fight it, just as one was supposed to be able to fight the Imperius Curse?_

_Before he could think it through, though, the pain became too strong, and all rational thought went away._

_The Death Eater casted the curse yet another time, before another figure joined them._

"_Any luck with this one?"_

"_I wouldn't expect so," his torturer said. "Why should a werewolf" he sneered the word "would know about Potter?"_

"_Then stop wasting your time with this scum and help me with the others."_

_The Death Eater shrugged, and twisting Remus' arm again, he took it inside._

The questions had being asked half-heartedly. It had not been about him knowing where Harry might be, they had already ruled that out. It had been about him, a werewolf, chosen as the most suited individual to punish, only because they could.

And that though he had all but refused to acknowledge since the night Mad-Eye Moody died, crept over him, freezing his insides.

Being a werewolf was supposed to be about him, and about him alone. A personal burden he was supposed to have carried on his own.

_"You've been kept safe; you've been treated like a normal wizard! The fact that you have friends is something werewolves rarely know. You have no idea how uncommon your situation is."_

Moody had said that, ages ago, the first time Remus had looked for him to discuss his lycanthropy. Moody had tried to make him understand something that he had only gotten after James' and Lily's death. The fact that it was meant for him to be alone, and that all that had happened so far had been nothing but a wonderful coincidence. An exception to all rules.

He had known that when he had met Tonks, and at first he had tried to remember that it was supposed to be like that, he was supposed to be alone. Not for him, no. For her. For everybody else. Only he had found it too easy to forget; while talking to her, while sharing moments and missions, he had felt like being at school again.

Remus took a blanket and wrapped himself around it, wondering idly why didn't he went to bed instead.

He should have seize the opportunity when Tonks had found out what he was and had stopped talking to him. Instead of moping and feeling miserable, he should have realised it was all for the best. Her distance would keep her safe, and would prevent him from getting more harm. But no. He had been selfish at being hurt by her coldness, and finally, she had given in, he had given in, and stupidly, regretfully, both had learned how wonderful being together could be. Moody did try to warn him, didn't he? He could not really remember.

After that, it all had been a long succession of bad decisions. His being with her, his leaving her, his coming back. And now they were married, with a... a creature? a werewolf? a baby?

Remus groaned aloud and shook his head. Whenever he thought about it, his mind would draw a blank. He came up with nothing, so there was no point on dwelling on that either. As always, he had work to do. A mission. He needed to find those kinds and make sure they were all right, and maybe, just maybe, prevent even more harm around him.

* * *

**AN: I am overwhelmed with the reviews and messages. Thank you very, very much!**

**This chapter keeps on being gloomy, but some action is no its way. [Tonks' Ch 92]**

**Cheers!**


	93. Two long days of Apparating

Finally, after two long days of Apparating up and down the country, trying to make it look he had something in his mind other than wander and look for Harry, Remus had the impression he was not being followed anymore. As a precaution, he even tried to blend in amongst Muggles for a while, and after that, he casted a Disillusionment charm on himself. He would not take risks of any kind.

Harry had not said anybody where would they be, but Remus had several ideas. Privet Drive was a possibility, but a remote one. As far as Harry knew, Death Eaters could be stationed there, or the house even destroyed to pieces. Besides, Remus knew for a fact that Harry's relation with his relatives' house was conflictive, to say the least. He very much doubted the idea of going back would even occur to him.

Hogwarts had been ruled out almost at once. Without Dumbledore there, the faith of the school had been unclear for almost the entire summer. Just today, though, Remus had gotten hold of an edition of the Daily Prophet, where stated that attending school would be mandatory. There was no confirmation, but he strongly suspected Snape would play a greater role in the school from now on.

Hermiones' house was another option, but he counted on them to realise it was more that probable that it had been raided by Death Eaters as well. Besides, if they were to occupy the dwelling, they would have to spend a considerable amount of time protecting the place for future incursions of Death Eaters or Ministry workers.

No, Remus thought during the days he had been trying to get rid of his tail, there was only one possible place, even if Snape knew about it: Apparating right on the landing of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, could be an idea Harry, Ron and Hermione would work up eventually. It was, after all, a safe location, even if not the most comfortable.

Seeing Harry pointing his wand at him from the landing of the stairs in the whole filled him with some sort of wild happiness and pride. How long had it been since he had last felt something like that?

"Don't move!"* he yelled, and a split second later, Walburga Black started screaming in her portrait on the wall.

* * *

"The story of Willhem (1675-1732) is one of the rare documented cases of the offspring of a female werewolf surviving more than a couple of months after his or her birth. It has reported that Wilhem was taken care of by relatives during the full moons, thus escaping the faith of being eaten by his own mother…"

The words slipped through Remus' mind hardly leaving a trace.

He had come to the library because he could not think of another place, and he needed to know, he needed to be certain. Only he could not concentrate, not when Harry's words reverberated in his mind, making it impossible for anything else to linger for more than a couple of seconds.

"_I'd never have believe this. The man who taught me to fight dementors – a coward."_*

In his mind, two images mixed together. The young man, sitting at the table in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, looking at him with serious green eyes, a shadow of a stubble visible as a sign of the passing of not very easy days. He had asked questions, he had been worried, alert, inquisitive... and then, furious.

And then there was the boy, much smaller and skinnier, respectful to the point of being almost shy, asking him to teach him how to fight dementors.

How was he, Remus, to take the former seriously, if it was the image of this smaller Harry the one that he remembered the most?

_"You're expecting too much of yourself." He had said back then. They had been practising the Patronus Charm for less than a month and Harry was struggling with it. It was no surprise; when Remus had agreed to teach him, he had done that out of feeling he owed James at least this. Not because he had been convinced that Harry would really achieve it. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"_**

_Harry looked dejected. "I thought a Patronus would - charge the dementors down or something. Make them disappear -"_**

_"The true Patronus does do that," Remus nodded. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, You will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."_**_ Because the main reason for him to try to fight Dementors back then had been Quidditch, and being able to defend himself should dementors show up in their next match. Even the reason behind Harry's behaviour had been those of a child._

_"You said it's harder if there are loads of them,"_**_ he said uncertain._

_"I have complete confidence in you,"_**_ Remus had answered._

It had been true at the time. Harry had proved not only to be able to cast a Patronus, albeit feeble at the time. He had proven to be a great kid. A fine wizard on the making.

Now...

Remus had gone looking for them to Grimmauld place because he had thought he needed to watch after him, to give him advice, just as he had done with that boy so many years ago. On entering what had once been Headquarters, he had made up his mind. He would not just offer them advice, pointers, help. He would offer himself to go with them and be of assistance during their mission.

And after mere minutes he had been forced to realise not only that his help had not being welcomed, but that, apparently, he had some hearing to do, too.

Shaking his head, Remus tried to focus on the yellowish pages in front of him.

"Most of the female werewolves - he read on - at a lack of adequate pray during a full moon, would harm themselves and thus, harm the unborn child they would be carrying. Wilhem's mother, apparently, did not had that problem. It was proven, thus, that the transformation of a werewolf will consider the existence of an unborn child, and therefore protect the womb."

Somebody hushed at his back and he turned around. A sour looking wizard was looking daggers at him from two tables down the aisle of the library.

"Stop that!" He whispered.

"What?"

"Stop banging your fist on the table!"

Remus turned back to his book quickly, blushing. He had not even realised he had been doing so, but now that the old man had said it, he felt his hand a little sore.

He clenched his fists again.

They were kids! Barely of age! What right did they thought they had to... to...?

"_But what about Tonks?"_*_ Hermione asked, and Remus could feel curiosity loaded with reproach in her voice._

"_What about her?"_*

"_Well," said Hermione, frowning, "you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?"_*

He had not given Tonks a thought, not really, and he had realised it just then. His mind had been on finding Harry, on the recent losses, on Mad-Eye and on that creature that was supposed to come in months' time, on the war and on his friends. But after leaving Tonks' flat, after that first night on his own, he had not given her a single thought. In an abstract way, of course she had been there, but as some imprecise presence.

Realising that had made him feel a strange, deep pain inside. It was not the time to dwell on that feeling, he needed those kids to understand how serious it all was and how valuable his help could be. And yet their questions were doing nothing but submerging him into that pain, that was turning into an uncomfortable shame.

"_Oh, I don't know, Hermione," Harry had said, his now grave voice loaded with anger. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him."_*

What did he know?

_What do you know, kid? What sort of responsibilities have you have on your life? What sort of harms have you actually caused? There isn't anything, boy, that could give you this sort of shame!_

"Stop it or I'll have you thrown away!" the old wizard at his back said angrily and Remus had to refrain his fist mid-air.

With a deep fight, he tried to focus his gaze on those pages again.

"During the 20th century more cases had been documented. St. Mungo's Healer Benedictus Tortoise in his paper _Taking care of the beast_ (1929) reports the case of M., a female werewolf that came to the Hospital right after giving birth to a little girl, begging him to take care of her in her place. Not having children of his own, Tortoise adopted the girl and raised her as a normal child. He ends his paper reporting that 12 years later, there had not been a sign showing abnormalities of any kind in the healthy young lady."

Remus' mind was drifting off again.

His fury was starting to yield to something not less uncomfortable.

No matter how he would try to look at it, it seemed evident that the chances of Harry to succeed in whatever mission he had been tasked, were dim, to say the least.

Yes, he was no longer a boy and yes, he was not alone, but he was not ready yet. Least of all to carry the weight of everybody's hopes on his shoulders! And yet he had learned so much... there had been something in what he had yelled at him in that dark, musty kitchen.

"_I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."*_

Really?

_Honestly, James? Would you have thought that? Wouldn't you have wanted me to stay?_

In his mind, he could practically hear his friend's voice.

"_Honestly, Moony, how dim can you be?"_

Remus sighed deeply and looked at the book again, not even trying to read it anymore.

If Sirius had been around he would have been furious. He could practically imagine him in the same kitchen he had left not long ago, pointing his wand at him, maybe even casting a full body-bind course and a silencing charm on him even before speaking.

"_You planning on leaving Tonksie? Pregnant with your child? Only because you're so scared to be happy you'd rather get yourself killed?!"_

Could it possibly be that this imaginary Sirius was right? Was he scared?

Yes, yes he was. He was scared of the future. In a world that was looking so dangerous and gloomy, what were the chances for the son of a werewolf? How was he going to get through every day having to live with the constant shame?

And yet... and yet... what if...?

He did not dare to ask. He did not dare to hope anymore.

He could not, he would not think along those lines because what were the odds for him, for them to be actually happy and well?

Now that he was thinking about Tonks, about his Dora, he could not seem to stop.

Remembering Hermione's words he actually imagined her in the small room at her parent's house, at work, waiting for him, maybe even placing a hand on her stomach, trying to find out if something was moving inside.

She was everything he cared for, his every reason for keeping on fighting, and not only because she existed. Even if he felt selfish admitting it, he was happy with her. Genuinely happy, in a way he had never met before, not even at school, not even with his friends.

The realisation came painfully as well. If she was so important to him, why was he not with her right now? What was keeping him from doing the reasonable thing?

* * *

He had finally arrived, late at night, and had carefully undone every protective spell around Ted and Andromeda's house. After that, it had been easy to enter the house and to climb up the stairs. Now came the difficult part.

He paused a moment in front of Tonks' door, trying to listen to the soft sounds of her sleeping. He could not hear a thing and it was this and that longing that he had started to feel in the library what had made him jerk the door open.

She had pointed her wand at him with a swift movement, and he had answered her security question, and a moment later they were hugging, and kissing, and breathing into one another. It had been too long and he had been too foolish, but now he was back and everything would be all right. It just had to.

"I love you," he said, trailing kisses down her throat, "you do know that, don't you?"

He needed to say it aloud, and he needed her to know.

"I love you too," she whispered after the longest of moments, and as he collapsed in her bed, he finally felt he was home.

He tried to be careful, tender, despite of his own urges to be with her, as close as humanly possible. With his hand he tried to notice if there was any different in her body. It was too soon for anything to show up yet.

After it finished, he felt her curl on his arm and fall asleep almost instantly. Remus could not. Tiredness was washing over him like a heavy weight but he could not allow himself to surrender to it before talking to her.

How long did he lay there, he could not tell. He kept on running his thoughts once and again, waiting for Tonks to wake up while trying to make up his mind about what was right, what he needed to do now. If he felt asleep or not, he could not tell, but suddenly he was aware of her moving next to him.

"Remus?" she asked softly, and he had to forced himself to turn around and meet her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, unable to be fooled by a smile that would not reach his eyes.

He needed to tell her. He could not just come back, and make love to her, and pretend everything had been just fine. And yet, he was so scared. "I don't know... what will happen next," he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

He faced her, pulling his body as close to hers has possible. "Please, tell me everything is going to be all right," he said weakly.

"Everything is going to be all right." Of course she would trust him, and say the right thing.

"Even if I… even if I do something terrible?" he asked again.

Tonks was quiet for a moment, looking at him with those big eyes, almost as if she wanted to read his thoughts and find out what he was talking about.

"What do you mean? What would that terrible thing be?" she finally asked. Remus tried to gather his thoughts, to choose the right words in order to explain, but also to reassure her that there was nothing to fear. "Remus, what have you done?" she asked again, and this time there was a tinge of impatience in her voice. There was no need to drag this any further.

"I have been… the biggest prat there is," he finally whispered. "However I haven't actually done anything. And I'm not going to."

It sounded stupid. Absurd. He felt her body tense and when she spoke again, her voice was cold.

"Remus, what are you talking about?"

He tried to explain. For what felt like ages he went over it all, his fears of the baby being like him, or of being ashamed of having him as a father, his ideas of leaving Tonks and the baby, and, how much he regretted even thinking about it. Then he told her about his research, about knowing now that the baby would not inherit his condition, and yet what sort of world would that tiny person be expected to live in?

"There was the other thought;" he was trying to explain, "the thought of my child feeling ashamed of me, or of him being treated like an outcast because of me."

Remus felt a heavy knot on his throat, and suddenly he remembered another kid, of barely one year of age. When James and Lily had died, he had volunteered to raise Harry, only Dumbledore had not accepted it. Why had he not thought about any of this back then and why was he thinking about it now, faced with the reality of his own child?

"I am pretty sure we are not going to produce such a jerk for a child," Tonks said heavily.

"It wouldn't be his fault, don't you see? It's the way the world is."

"And it's what we're fighting to change every day, isn't it?" she prompted, and he felt an urge to hug her, to feel next to her what she was feeling.

The sun was slowly rising and Tonks' small bedroom was being bathed in soft golden light.

"I want to give you and the baby a normal life," Remus finally said.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, and he was sure it was taking all of her self control not to hex him on the spot.

"Care to describe what a normal life is supposed to be like? He'll have a multicoloured Auror for a mother, who happens to come from the most rotten wizarding family in history, he would be friends with blood traitors, not to mention, he will have a grandfather who fits the description of Mud-blood. What on earth is normal, Remus?"

"None of those things is a bad as having a werewolf as a father," he said, even though he wanted to believe, he wanted to be convinced by her reasoning.

"Oh, yeah, because we'll raise him to hate you, I forgot."

"Not us, the world! He won't hate me but he'll be ashamed of what I am, people will make fun at him, or treat him badly, or-"

"It's a rotten world as well"

Remus sighed. He would just have to trust her reasons, all he had read and even what Harry had yelled at him.

"I'm not leaving you," he said again. He needed for that cloud of doubt in Tonks' eyes to disappear. "Because I love you too much and because I've finally understand that the best way for me to love you is to stay."

For a long moment none of them spoke. Remus was trying to make up his mind about hugging her or not. He wanted to, but he was also very scared, almost as if she were something fragile. _How ironic_, he thought, _because she is the strongest thing in my life._

Finally, Tonks cleared her throat.

"The only reason that occurs to me of why our son would be ashamed of his father is that he ran on him. That he chose to leave him when he could have stayed."

Of course she had to say that. He chuckled, torn between amusement and exasperation. Why was it so easy for everybody to forget what he was, or to decide to simply overlook it?

"You've been talking to Harry lately?" he asked in response to Tonks' puzzled expression.

"What does he has to do with this?"

"He said exactly the same thing… in a much more harsh way," Remus said, trying not to remember the contempt in Harry's eyes and his own fury.

Tonks sighed. The only emotion she had now was exasperation.

"Then if you're here because you listened to him, we're choosing him as the godfather."

* * *

*** Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**

**** Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

**[Tonks Ch 94]**


	94. Sounds coming from the bathroom

_Mid August_

The muffled sounds coming from the bathroom could not fool him. In the last few days since he came back, he had gotten familiar with them, and with how it sounded when Tonks tried to hide from him the fact that she was being violently sick.

With a grunt he jumped out of bed, ignoring the pain in his joints. Full moon was just days away and he was starting to feel the first signs of his upcoming transformation. It took him a couple of long strides to reach the closed door and, with a lazy wave of his wand, he unlocked it, not bothering to knock. He did not want to hear her making additional efforts to try to convince him nothing was wrong.

Just as he expected, Tonks was bent over the toilet, her hands clutching the sides, shaking slightly and looking very pale. Without a word he opened the tap and watered his own hands before placing them on Tonks' forehead.

"Thanks," she muttered hoarsely.

He did not know what to say. He had read in both Muggle and magic books that morning sickness was to be expected during the first months of a pregnancy. They had discussed it and he was trying to allow himself to be convinced that this had nothing to do with the creature having a werewolf as a father. Andromeda herself had sworn she had felt thus throughout her whole pregnancy, and not only during the first trimester.

Upon hearing that, right after a very intense session at the toilet, Tonks had grunted and Remus was sure she would have started blaming him, the way most women did on such occasions, had he not been already burdened with so much guilt.

Tonks was deeply aware of that and she was trying her best to hide her sickness from him.

That would make him feel even guiltier, but he was determined now to keep the gloomy thoughts as far as possible. When he had came back, he had realised that if he wanted it all to work, he needed to be there without the heavy weight of his guilt. It was not fair to share that with Tonks… or whatever was growing inside her.

"I know there's not coming back," Tonks said, now facing the running water and submerging her wrists. "But I wish I still had a job to go to."

Again, Remus had no idea how to respond to that. A week ago, Tonks had left the Ministry for good and it seemed that it had taken them a while to catch on. The official looking owl had arrived the night before, carrying a letter that urged her to report the reason why she was not showing up anymore. Tonks had hastily scribbled a resignation letter and sent it, in her own words, _before I give myself a chance to think about it_.

"I need something to do, Remus," she spoke again. "I'm useless sitting here, on my butt, all day long, with all that's going on."

"You're not feeling right," he finally managed. "How are you supposed to-?"

"I'm not feeling that bad," she retorted. "It's only in the morning… and sometimes in the afternoon," she added reluctantly. "But staying here is what's killing me. I just lay in bed, thinking about it all… it's like having a soddin' dementor sitting on my shoulder. And I just keep wondering if you're going to come home unharmed, if they're going to come after my dad, if they're going to figure out Kingsley's with us and sack him, if Harry and the lot are all right… I _need_ to get on my feet and do something, Remus, I really do."

He considered her for a moment, pale and shaky, her hair messy and soft blue. At least she had not lost her morphing abilities again.

"I could hide better than any of you," she said, following his train of thought. "I'll morph into something inconspicuous."

"Wouldn't that hurt the baby?" Remus asked, and he was surprised by his own words. It was not only that he was talking about it as a baby, but, even more astounding, that he actually cared. When had he started thinking about protecting it and not just Tonks?

If she noticed the change, she did not show it.

"I've read all about it," she was now drying her hands and, with a purposeful expression, she headed to her wardrobe and started browsing through her clothes as if it had already been decided she would go somewhere. "I won't turn into a skinny supermodel, mind you. As long as I left enough room, the baby should be fine."

She took her favourite pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt and headed back to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Remus sighed. He knew better than to try to argue with her when her mind was set. She might be right about it all. Maybe she was better off doing something instead of just sitting there wondering.

_The baby…_

The words seemed to bounce against Remus' skull. For the first time he allowed himself to think about it as a human being, instead of as something half way between a human and a fully transformed werewolf. Was it a boy or a girl? Would it look like him or Tonks? A little bit of both? Was there a possibility for him or her to be a Metamorphmagus as their mum? How would it be like to grow up in the middle of the war? Would it be finish by the time of the birth? And how would he and Tonks manage to do all that was to do and take care of a baby?

The door of the bathroom opened again and Tonks emerged fully dressed, her hair now electric blue.

"We won't get much sleep," Remus muttered, and Tonks' expression made him realised he had spoken out loud something that was supposed to have stayed in his head.

"When? Why?"

Remus felt sheepish.

"When the baby comes. They're a lot of work, I've read."

Tonks looked at him intently. "So they say."

"There's the night feeding, and the diapers, and the random crying…"

She arched an eyebrow, and Remus suddenly realised that he sounded as if he was having second thoughts again.

"It's going to be fun," he added, trying his best to sound convincing. Because never in his life had he been so sure he wanted to be with her, with them. He felt a sudden urge to know what the baby would look like, when would he or she start to smile at them and what would be their first word.

"It is," she said slowly, still looking at him intently.

"What I'm saying is, wouldn't you rather get as much rest as you can before the birth?"

Tonks let out a grunt, half amused, half exasperated.

"No. Would you?"

Remus beamed at her. "I'm an old werewolf and the full moon is approaching," she frowned and he hastily continued, "so no, I wouldn't."

"Tosser," she chuckled, giving him a playful, soft punch.

"And you're not making it any better," he said, rubbing at the spot as if it had really hurt.

Without a word, she hugged him, and he hugged her back.

"I promise this is the last time I'll ask," he started. "Are your sure you're going to be all right out there?"

"I am," she looked up at him, "and if you ask again, I'll prove you just how ready I am to hex whoever doubts it."

"Fair enough," he said, turning around to pick up some clothes. "We have to go to Arthur's. We're devising new plans to smug Muggles out of the country and Merlin knows all help is welcome."

"It took you long enough to ask," he heard her calling at his back, as he closed the bathroom door.

* * *

**AN: It's been so long I'd almost forgotten how to write. I**

**f you're still there, thanks a lot!**

**[I promise the next chapters will be longer and better. This one was just me, trying to write again]**


	95. Here you go, dear

"Here you go, dear," Molly said softly, placing a cup of tea and a large plate of biscuits in front of Tonks.

"Thanks, Molly."

"You eat all of those now, we need to keep you both healthy."

Tonks beamed, as she always did when somebody talked about the baby. It was a new smile, different from all those Remus had gotten used to. Now she looked both serene and happy beyond anybody's wildest dreams. The smile, though, was soon replaced by the concerned look that everybody was displaying.

"So, Minerva's Patronus said it would be the last," Arthur resumed. "Now that school has started, she can't risk communicating with the outside, and Snape, apparently, is everywhere."

"It must be a very depressing place," Tonks said.

_Not just depressing_, Remus thought. _Dangerous._ He would not say that aloud; with their daughter back at school, Arthur and Molly did not need another reason to worry.

"Ginny wants to be able to say more," Arthur continued. "That was obvious from her last letter. But she knows they are scanning all letters in and out the school. They don't want the students to complain openly."

"We've been fools," Remus sighed. "We never thought about alternative means of communication. We rely on Patronuses too much. And now that's out of the question."

"It doesn't help to get over that again," Molly said and, at her side, Tonks nodded. "It's done."

The Order of the Phoenix was now composed of just a handful of very weary witches and wizards, and although Kingsley had stepped in as a head of sorts, their priority was to maintain his cover inside the Ministry. Therefore he had not been to meetings in a very long time. Minerva was not allowed to leave Hogwarts anymore, and she had refused to resign, in order to be able to protect the students.

"We will have to be prepared for the future, though," Remus continued. "Right now it's still possible for us to visit without looking too suspicious. But we'll have to get ready for a scenario in which all of us will have to go into hiding."

"There are some possibilities," Arthur said. "I could try to get hold of one of those two-ways mirrors. I think Fred and George can get them… or make them, or something. We can't rely much on them, though, in case _our friends_ decide to register the house."

"We can always smash them," Molly suggested.

"They'll keep on working, the little pieces," Tonks said. "But it's a good idea. We could use them just for emergencies."

Arthur sighed loudly. "In the meantime, where are we?"

"We've successfully managed to smuggle two groups of Muggleborns out of the country," Tonks said. It had proven to be very difficult, first to track those that had gone into hiding. Then, to convince them that said hiding would not be safe forever. Finally, to organise them and make them board different Muggle transportation means. "I even got a very small note from one of them. It just said 'We're OK' or something like that, but it was reassuring all the same."

"At least that is working," Molly said. It was so strange to see her so worn out. She had never been overly optimistic, but there had always been something to keep her busy and that had given the illusion of better times to come. Now, with an empty house and an almost inexistent Order of the Phoenix, she had nothing to care about, no large crowd to cook for, and it was sad to see her, just sitting at the table instead of busying at the stove, sipping her tea and looking distracted.

"We're trying to contact more Muggleborns to send them to France at the end of this month. This time we'll use a Muggle ferry going to Calais," Tonks said.

"It's much cheaper and easier than trying to get plain tickets," Remus added. He could not help but noticing the faintest interest in Arthur the moment he had said the word _planes_. For a wild second Remus wondered if there ever would be a possibility for Arthur to get into one of those things.

"So that should keep on going, right?" The brief glow in Arthur's eyes was gone and he was back on business. "There is the matter of the other groups… I don't know if we should be concerned, but it might become important."

"Other groups?" Remus asked.

"A friend of the twins told us about it. Actually, they are talking about starting an underground radio broadcast… to give real information about casualties and what's going on. At the beginning we wanted to stop them doing it, but we can't. And… it might be a good idea. But they're not the only group trying to do something about the new regime."

"Yeah, I saw a couple of reports before leaving the Ministry," Tonks nodded, "but I hadn't realised those were organised groups. I thought there were just teenagers doing some anti-government graffiti."

"There is some of that, of course," Arthur said, "but Kingsley reckons there are real, organised groups rallying and trying to do something. What is that something, I don't know."

"Do you think they might try for an open confrontation?" Remus asked. The idea was not new. It had been on the Order of the Phoenix's agenda since Dumbledore had reformed the organisation, but in order to do that, they had needed for the Death Eaters to be out in the open. Now that they were, the Order had no means to face up to them. He was convinced that, at the time being, the idea of such a confrontation was ridiculous, and yet he was sure they needed to be as ready as possible. The big question was who were they going to attack and where?

"I don't know…" Arthur said. "There has been that funny thing at the Ministry of Magic. Somebody entered and freed Muggleborns that had been brought in for a hearing. Of course," he added hastily, "that was just a lame excuse they were using. And then somebody came in and freed them, disguised as Rookwood of all people. I tell you, after that, security has doubled."

"But who was behind that move? What's their agenda?" Tonks asked.

"No idea. Because that operation was sloppy." Suddenly Arthur chuckled. "Well… there is this rumour…"

"Come on, Arthur," Molly said, evidently knowing what he was going to say. "That's just silly."

"Nonetheless," Arthur continued, "there are people saying that the person behind it had been none other than Harry."

"Alone?" Asked Tonks.

"I don't know. If I know Ron at all, he might have been with him. And Hermione too. But, as I said, it's all just a rumour. Nobody knows for sure. And if those kids were behind this…," Arthur's tone became sombre, "I must say they were not very cleaver."

"We don't need people making sloppy attempts and foolish mistakes that might lead to the loss of lives," Remus said, thinking about the last time he had seen Harry, at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

"Agreed," Molly said, in a barely audible voice.

"So," Tonks said, business-like. "Let's say we were to target Death Eaters' places. The Ministry of Magic is one, and very heavy guarded. Almost out of the question. What else is there?"

"Malfoy Manor," Arthur said. "At least, that's where they used to gather. I don't know if they keep using it as Headquarters. But if so, it might be very difficult to enter."

"It could be as unassailable as the Ministry itself," Remus agreed.

"There's also Hogwarts," Molly said, "according to what Minerva said in her last Patronus. Something's going on in there. They've even hired Death Eaters as teachers!"

Minerva McGonagall had been their only source of information on what was going on inside the castle, having decided to spend most of her school holidays there. Now that the new school year had started, however, her communications had become almost inexistent. At the beginning it had seemed strange that a school had turned out to be so important in Voldemort's scheme, but after learning about the new lessons and an overall anti-Muggle message, the full scope of the operation was clear. They just wanted to indoctrinate wizards from a very young age.

_Which means they are pretty sure they have won,_ Remus thought grimly,_ since they are making long-term plans._

"But as a place to confront them…?" Tonks stated, and Remus was sure her mind was in the last time they had battled at Hogwarts.

"It could be a possibility, though," Arthur said, sounding unconvinced.

"Well, if that's the case," Remus said, "the castle might very well be the most impossible of all three locations."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Molly. "Not even the staff is allowed to go out anymore, let alone Hogsmeade visits for the students. I didn't want Ginny to go," she added.

Tonks patted her arm. "If she'd stayed, it might have been even more dangerous. She's a pureblood, she'll be fine."

"I keep on saying that to myself," Molly nodded.

The four people at the table remained silent for a moment.

"I could go and take a look," Remus suddenly said.

"Where?"

"Hogsmeade."

"You're out of your mind," Tonks stated.

"Why?"

"Well, for starters, you're supposed to have registered as a werewolf," she snapped. "What will happen if you run into a Death Eater, or even a Ministry official? The village is probably packed with both!"

"I'll be disguised."

"It's very dangerous, Remus," Arthur said.

"Everything is very dangerous these days," Remus retorted, convinced with ever moment that his idea needed to be done.

"Why does it have to be you?" Tonks asked, impatiently.

"Because I think I'm the one that knows Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and the area around better than anybody we could ask." _Better than anybody alive, except for the rat,_ he added to himself. "We need to have some possibilities sketched on how to get in and out of the castle if the situation calls for it."

* * *

The general appearance of the village took Remus by surprise. What had once been a cheerful place full of small business, houses and people busying around now looked like a haunted, abandoned town. The few persons walking the streets were hunched over, covering their faces with scarves even though it was not that cold, hurrying to go wherever they were heading. Most of the stores were closed and some of them even boarded up. There were signs plastered on walls and windows showing faces, some of them Remus knew only too well. Harry's was all over the place, wearing the description "Undesirable Number One".

For the first time since he had left the school, Remus thought about the Marauders Map. Did Harry still have it? He was certain that, if not, he would have kept it in a safe place. He wished he, Remus, had it with him, though.

Besides the main entrance and through the Forbidden Forest, there were seven entrances to the school. Fred and George had told him that four of them were known by Filch; Remus suspected that now they had to be heavily guarded. From the other three, the one leading to the alley behind Zonko's was supposed to be caved in. Remus wondered if he could get rid of whatever there was blocking the passage. It was a very risky shot.

Then there was the entrance through Honeydukes' cellar. Remus walked down High Street, imitating the demeanour of the few people walking around, trying to blend in. When he reached the candy shop he barely recognised it. How long it had been closed, he could not tell, but there was a thick layer of dust in the windows, and the door was secured with a chain and a large padlock. It was a very sad view, and Remus hurried pass. He could enter the shop, of course, but that could trigger some sort of alarm that might ruin the entire operation.

Right as he thought that, three hooded figures strode next to him. He did not need to see their faces to know what they were. The fact that they now wander the streets not even hiding their being Death Eaters was ominous.

The last entrance was the most dangerous of them all, and yet, Remus now realised he had been looking forward to go back to the Shrieking Shack. Even though that was the one passage Snape knew for sure.

To approach the derelict building, he casted a Disillusionment charm on himself. It was strange enough for him to be walking without a purpose; going to the abandoned house would certainly attract the Death Eaters.

It had not been that long since the last time he had entered the place. It had been a couple of days after Dumbledore's death; he had come with Tonks to pick up the few things that he had brought with him during the brief time he had lived in the Shrieking Shack. Apparently nobody had entered the place since. It looked as gloomy and abandoned as ever.

Slowly he climbed up the stairs to check the rooms upstairs. Except for a couple of paper bags he had left, there was nothing different.

He had not come to reminisce, though, so he headed downstairs, to the entrance to the passageway connecting the shack with the castle. He had not yet decided if he should go inside and try to reach the Whomping Willow, or if he just needed to make sure this entrance remained a possibility. A nagging feeling was telling him that it was a hopeful, silly idea; what were the odds of Snape keeping it conveniently open for them?

Perhaps he should make a good use of another Disillusionment Charm and go back to try Honeydukes. Maybe he could even attempt Zonko's…

It was a hunch, more than an actual noise what made him spin around.

"_Protego!_"

"_Expeliarmus!_"

Snape was there, looking a little dishevelled and panting a little but other than that, firmly pointing his wand at Remus.

"Isn't this a surprise," he sneered.

"Is it?" Remus retorted, wondering just the same. Was it a coincidence that Snape happened to be there?

"I thought you would have gone into hiding by now," Snape said lightly, apparently unconcerned about the fact that Remus' wand was pointing at his chest.

"You though wrong then," Remus said, ready to cast another shield charm if needed.

"And what are you doing here, of all places? It's not going to be a full moon tonight, is it?"

"Well, I was not aware that I was not allowed to be here."

"It's not a matter of being allowed or not," Snape said, but he did not elaborate.

For a moment both men stood silent, evaluating the situation. _Would it be possible to actually capture Snape? What could we get out of that? And what would happen when the Death Eaters realise he's gone missing? Or, in the opposite scenario, would I be allowed to just walk away without a fight?_

"And you come _you_ are here?" Remus asked. "Fancied a stroll?"

"Just checking the many entrances to the castle," he said. "It is my duty as Headmaster, after all, to see for the school and its students' safety."

Remus felt rage building up inside him. The loftiness in Snape's words was to be expected. His casual stepping into Dumbledore's shoes was something he was not ready to face.

"You've got some nerve," Remus grunted through gritted teeth.

"So do you." Snape looked much more composed.

"You killed him."

"Yes, I did."

The blunt way of saying it hit Remus almost as if it was physical pain. He tried to look pass the man in front of him, to the school boy he had known and dislike so many years ago, to the colleague during that brief year of teaching, to the potion brewer that had made his transformations so much easier for a while, to his fellow Order member not that long ago.

"Why?"

"That's a very superfluous question," Snape said flatly.

"And now you're going to kill me too," Remus asked, matter-of-factly.

"I don't see a need for that. It'll be a waste of my precious time."

"What are you doing here, then?"

Snape smiled and Remus wished, for a wild second, he could drop the wand and just hit him.

"You're not the only one with tricks under their sleeve, Lupin."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"_Petrificus totalus_!"

Even though he could have sworn he was ready for it, the spell hit him by surprise, before he could even begin to cast his shield. Helpless and humiliated, he felt pain as his body hit the ground in an awkward angle, unable to nothing more than glare at Snape.

Sneering, he approached Remus and towered over his immobile body.

"Just in case you were wondering about how to enter the castle… Don't. It's much better protected than it was when you were a reckless schoolboy. I wouldn't try to go pass this very house. As you said, it is not that you're not allowed to be here. Don't push the limit, though."

Snape gave a step back in the direction of the entrance to the tunnel. _Is he just going to leave me here? _

"You've stopped to be a threat long ago," Snape added, almost as if he was answering Remus' mute question. "What's left of you and your group now is just pathetic. I do have to thank you, though," he added, "that map of yours… a clever artefact. You and your pathetic friends must have felt so smart when you made it. Well, it turns out you're not the only ones capable of clever tricks."

And without another word, Snape turned around and Remus could hear him navigating through the entrance of the tunnel.

* * *

**AN: Thank you very much, Aiedail en Galad, MuggleCreator, Louey06, sparks Lupin, CharmChaser, Hermione Is My Role Model, remusdora, harbear, and lyric oneil. You're great!**


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